Tag Archives: spirituality

// desire //

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I am the consummation of desire.

I hunger and thirst and scream inside to quench an endless aching cycle of desires, wants, needs – some real, some required, some imagined, some sought, some denied.

This is how we breed and are bred.

Celestial oscillations between the shred of frustration and the collapse of molten satisfaction.

But the dangerous, the taut, the mysterious, the rare human creature will invoke a need without intent to satisfy it. She will hold herself within the tension between these two poles to find that satisfaction is not the pulse, anticipation is.

A willing mind hung inside this suspended place develops an affection for the unlimited richness, an overflow of toothsome sensations and experiences which exist only inside that electrified space between satisfied / not satisfied.

What a crime to live a life chasing nothing in the end without savoring the chase. How tragic to be ignorant to the divine clutches of raw frustration.

That which we deny, denies us.

What mad ecstasy to dangle on a hook, torn between the pleasure of attaining our desires… and the pleasure of not.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

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My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and affection. x

// kneel //

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the bend in the river
matches the way my
body turns away from itself without my
help.
when i write
i’m suspended somewhere between the life
they need me to live and
the death none of us will
escape.
inside i can feel the moons orbiting the planets and the
crushing energy of their cyclical motion excites me
everywhere.
i am the frenzy of the chaotic light and the nectar of the
infinite dark
i am the lion and the
lamb,
the altar and the sword.
i’m stretched in two, pricked by everything and awash in oblivion
trying desperately to worship
something intolerable
while begging
forgiveness from something i
don’t
understand.
in case you thought i was perfect
or a mess or
not trying hard enough
believe me, these things have difficult faces
that reach for me.
my mouth is a red velvet
confessional
of
words.
maybe i owe something i cannot
ever
recover
maybe we are all after something
we think and pray and hope is
release.
if i kneel before you
would you know
exactly
who you are?
life is not easy when
the air i need is your tattooed flesh
and suffocation is new life,
when i dream in the colored ribbons of madness
and this self-conscious world deflowers itself
for the gray.
the catastrophe of love is freedom
laced with
pain
and somehow we keep
on with
the
breathing.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

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My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

// riotous //

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A writer is always writing. It is not something that ever leaves or sleeps.
Writing is an alien life force living itself through you.
It is born of you, gnaws on you, touches you in places so tender your only blind instinct is to kneel and listen. Writing is divine command, one hand on your throat as the other traces the curves along your sides.
The word is the shape of your shape, the gap between your thighs.
It is the collapse into rage, the madness of hunger, the fire you swallow and can scarcely believe.
Poetry ruptures in cascading waves from the motion of my lengthy body twisting in white sheets, I watch myself in dreams as you find your way across my steady breathing, slow.
Words like claws scratch their black rebellious ink in dark rooms I keep hidden in my psyche, centuries of breeding stories threaten to be told, forcing their rough thumbs against my patient lips.
When it’s time, I speak, and not before.
There is a creation I’m becoming, a creature at work on a canvas behind my eyes, inside my veins, it rises and spins, pulls at my lungs and my organs, I emerge for it bound and willing, we advance toward another place.
Prose grows swollen, thick amber honey in the way I scream inside a contracting womb for the pain beneath my skin at birth.
I’m hypnotized, transfixed, muted, strung out on flashes of light on the ceiling as you wrap my temptress hair in braids and I pray.
Like thunder slamming against the hollow caverns in my chest, the words take my breath in sharp clips and deliver it back to me in tremendous, crushing waterfalls, plunging over my grateful body, washing me clean.
Cold glances meet my reluctant gaze, I look to you and reach for something you carry in a place you’ve not yet seen, but I know where I left it when we came together last. You were a letter I was too terrified to send. I want to place my hands into your stomach and melt you, take you there against your will and watch you in ecstasy, this magical decay where all your senses are exceeded, expended and depleted.
Heavy footsteps against wet city streets, cigarettes for fingers, your graffiti back against the wall, all of it writes itself in the echo of typewriter keys punching on the screens running mad, the scribbled reels of static white noise ignite my riotous mind.
Flames writhing, licking at the edges of the sacrificial pages of my torn frustration, the way I imagine my wrists taste like metal wounds in your mouth. How I wonder what we are searching for and how we know the scent of homes and humans we’ve never built, never led, never kissed, never met.
There are words within me always, I part my lips around them in silence, in seduction, in the destructive core of every buried desire, in my inexplicable readiness to risk the full exposure of my bizarre script of uncomfortable perversions for them to see. Fear is never far from Love, one is the lurking thief of the other.  A dance we learn, the art of the way we play for keeps and returns.
Writers are always writing to die and writing to rise.
I am as the Creator created me Feminine, Masculine, Human, Divine, to deliver the keys to the doors to freedom and offer them as they open, one inside another, inside another; we are the gates and the guards, the beggars and the masters, we are the windows opening into castles in the sky.
These words in my head I need them, these words you’ve just read, I belong to them. I have come here for them, for them, for them until the end.

~ Allison Marie Conway ~

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My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

Meditation: The Biggest Lie of All

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photo by Allison Marie for glorybegin.com

If we really care about each other, and I know we deeply, deeply do, this needs to be said.

As much as we may groove with an enchanting romantic spell now and again, the ones that conceal our view of the absolute truth must in good faith be broken.

So as unromantic as that sounds . . . let’s just get about it, shall we?

Okay, here goes:

If you (or your friend / lover / yoga instructor with the sexy solar plexus chakra) think meditation is in any way supposed to be easily peaceful, that you will somehow be miraculously absorbed by an orgasmic explosion of light or mysteriously levitated above your living room ottoman. you have been fed a grave and serious amount of bullshit, my gorgeous love.

Quite possibly on multiple occasions.

Also quite possibly, incense or magic carpets or chickens or late night credit card payments or yoke-less eggs were involved.

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How to Conquer Your Greatest Fear

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(Hey there, gorgeous, Listen, before this gets any more compromising, I should probably warn you: This post is a bit longer than permissible by socially acceptable blogging standards. We all know the ‘proper’ length of a blog post has already been decided for us and nailed to the cross of 1000 words max, so have decreed the blogging gods. But here’s what: I’m not interested in appeasing them today. Not today. Today I need this – this whole ravenous thing – and I need every sexy, lengthy, stubborn inch of it. If you come with all the way, I will love you forever in a place warm and intimate and eternal. It will be glorious. So. You wanna?)

The writer in me wanted to scratch apart what I’m about to share and then patch it back together; make it – you know – “better.”

Maybe twist it inward then unravel it again; thread a few more thoughts through it and slide a few others out.

But then I realized that this thing wasn’t really mine to begin with so who was I to monkey around with it?

Below is a post that fell out of me onto social media in one of those “Ah Ha!” moments where the clouds ceremoniously part and the dazzling light warmly aligns your vision and you finally see Everything clearly and exactly as it always was, but with the clouds and the fog and everything before, well, you were just kind of screwed.

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{Podcast} How to Forgive Yourself

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Allison Marie for Glory Begin

People often ask me why I study and practice the metaphysical teachings of A Course In Miracles and the answer is quite undramatically, unimpressively, unassumingly simple:  It works.

By that I mean: it gets me to the peace.

I truly believe that this is the single most important measure of a working spiritual practice. Is it getting you to a place of deep internal peace. Everyone’s path and practice will be rich and different and special, but as long as it gets one to the peace, all is solid with the Universe.

But if your spiritual path doesn’t lead you to peace?  It’s not working.

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{Video} How to Find Your Calling (& Super Big Joy)

Hey, there, hey love, excuse me – hi friend – quick question for you: what are you supposed to be doing with your life?  I mean, I’m just curious: what’s your thing, what’s your gig?  What’s your calling?

I guess what I’m asking you is:  what are you here to . . .  you know . . . DO?

Kind of a tricky one, right.  Little bit.  For you, for me, for all of us.

But over the course of my deeply spirit-steeped life, I discovered 2 tiny words that have come in massively handy when it comes to keeping me centered, guided and joyful on my path. So incredibly useful are these words, in fact, that I have been using them daily to manifest my personal calling and stay intimately tight with what it is that Spirit is asking me to do.

What are these two transformational words?

Listen in and let’s get about uncovering your beautiful calling and your deepest joy:

 

There is no better time than right now to begin to get in touch with your true calling. If this message resonated for you I promise you there is a divine reason for it.

Nothing comes into your life by accident, beloved.  We are all messengers and angels for one another; we are here to walk each other home.

Whatever your calling is, whatever reveals itself to you as your purpose, you can be certain that it will be about love, it will be about light and it will be about service.

As always, I welcome your comments – and you :) – with open arms and an open heart.

If you know someone who could benefit from this message I invite you to share this post with them. There are so many beautiful souls out there who could use a gentle reminder that they are so loved and that their gifts, talents and presence matter to us all.

Sending you peace and joy, dear ones.  Always, always.

Allison Marie Xx

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