I’m here, I’m here. I’m not stuck on the subways of NYC, I’m not locked up in jail for indecent exposure, I’m not buried the in psychodramatic whirlings of commune life (at least, not right now). I’ve just been busy. It’s hard for me to return to the community after being away for most of the month of April. I love to travel, and making the transition from being out in mainstream culture to being here in the community takes a lot of energy for me. It’s slowing down, relaxing, refocusing, realigning, remembering. Each time I go away, it seems like it takes just as long as I was gone to really feel rooted in the community again.

We had gorgeous Beltane on Saturday, brilliant sun with intermittent rain which was perfectly timed, bookending the Maypole ritual with light showers before and after. A reminder of the power of nature over whatever plans we try to make.

On Saturday night a group of us went out to a far-lying cow pasture for a Primal Scream. There were 4 of us, and we stood in a wide circle, backs to each other, facing out into the rainy evening. I hadn’t done an official, intentional Primal Scream in years — the rest of them come in moments of ecstacy or anger, and I rarely allow myself to let go fully, especially in anger. I think creating the space for it with other people helped me this time, agreeing with each other that this was a space for wild and raw abandon. Once my back was turned from the others I stood staring out into the wet pasture, and listened as others started to scream. Most were screams of anguish, sadness and anger. I didn’t have something specific to scream about; I’ve had lots of unexpressed frustration recently and I figured something would come to me. I took a deep breath and then crouched down to force the air from my lungs. As I began screaming, I connected not with a specific frustration, but with an animal rawness that opened in my gut. I’ve only expreienced this on the top of mountains and in moments of deep intimacy, this opening of myself. It feels powerful and submissive at once, giving myself over to the power of Life, to the unknown, the Great Mystery… and in giving myself over to it, becoming a part of it, becoming empowered through it.

I screamed for awhile, stopped when I ran out of breath, and then stood and breathed for awhile. I noticed myself, my body, no longer crouched animalistically but standing, feet spread, shoulders back, chin high. I listened to the others and watched the rain and the grass and the juniper trees. Then I screamed again. Then breathed, and screamed again. When we were all standing silent for awhile, we walked quietly back from the pasture, and I jumped in the pond.

and now I have what I call my “phone sex voice”, low and raspy. “Hey, sugar…”