I have been having a strong notion of already getting to know this man, his daily attitude and behaviour, temperament, sense of humor, uplifting presence, knowledge and caretaking mentality, plus the sacrifices he is, in his turn, already making.
Painting the kitchen cabinets.
His insecure indecisiveness about whether to choose gold to cover the typical American pinewood doors with.
This man knows an artist who is very, VERY particular about home decoration will be living with him very soon.
Admittedly very cute, but terribly annoying.
I was laying with my head flat faced in a pillow while Rombout was sitting on top of me, and I thought:
‘Yeh. You know what?!
SURE baby, paint the fuckers gold.
For God’s sake. JEEZ!’
What to do with the decorative elements.
‘What? Do it yourself!’
Nooooooo, he wanted me to do it.
I received a mental projection of Japanese style painted branches and leafs, with colored accents in black, red and white.
I agreed it would for sure look amazing on the golden doors, and yes, I admitted I am the one who knows what she’s doing.
But you know, I was kind of in the middle of something; Rombout was now twisting my right arm in a somewhat uncomfortable position, and my shoulder cracked.
The negotiation was going so fast, I at first hardly recognised it for what it was and especially, whom with.
I was being overwhelmed with this image of very ugly kitchen cabinet doors, however, and I recognised them from the pictures I had seen on his Instagram account.
And I thought:
Usually he’d inquire first what I’m doing, who I’m with, etcetera, or he’d just drop in unannounced, out of body, la-dee-dah-dee, just like that as if it’s the natural order of things, and then just start meddling with everything as if he fucking owns the place.
But now I was just seeing those damn hideous pinewood doors with my third eye, and the issue seemed kind of very urgent:
A man in distress about what colors to pick!
It all went so fast I failed to be assertive and tell him:
‘Baby, you are disturbing just a tiny little bit because I am receiving a Shiatsu massage right here, about, – how far would it be? -, 10.000 kilometers away from you?
Could it just please wait until a somewhat more convenient moment?’.
But you know, he’d probably have said:
Because that’s what he’s like, so that wouldn’t have made any difference at all.
I gave in and said:
‘Sure. FINE! I’ll do it!’.
For crying out loud. Really.
I started laughing.
Rombout inquired what was so funny, now folding and stretching my legs, and I said I would tell him later.
I was in such a relaxed state, I figured the dialogue was not just something coming from my wishful imagination.
And I am used to these mental projections coming in so strong from or enhanced by Spirit communication, so I thought it must had been real.
Reinvigorated by Rombout’s massage I was afterwards lying on the couch, letting what I had experienced sink in.
I giggled joyfully amused and felt humorously irritated, and I considered taking repercussions.
A shaman woman’s gotta do what a shaman woman’s gotta do!
I told Rombout about my experience, and his first response to that was concern, to which he added this wasn’t good for me at all.
But when I told him about my naughty little plan he immediately started laughing out loud and said:
‘Good idea. Go on then.’
For quite a long time I had been simply frightened of even thinking about visiting his Instagram profile again, but now I felt more than a hundred percent confident, and challenged to the max.
I thought about it for an extra thirty seconds, then took a deep breath, and went for it.
I had to unblock him first, then I sent the following message:
‘Could you please do me a favor and make up your own goddamn mind about the color of your kitchen cabinets?
I was just receiving a good relaxing massage’.
After, I blocked him again, and tested with Rombout’s phone if people still receive your messages if you block them.
And so, there you go, I just broke the mold by solving an average daily domestic issue, partially telepathically through the spiritual ether, partially through our so beloved convenience of social media texting.
A harmless leap of faith this time. Phew.
Main reason for blocking him is that, even if he would respond to my text, I don’t want to be communicating online with him anymore;
I am so done with it.
I want him on my doorstep, for real, and nothing else.
My self respect and borders as a woman are overruling my longing for acknowledgement of and proof for my ideas about what’s going on, for that matter.
And just now, the morning after, I was contemplating my optimism, faith and loyalty, and I have to admit I am awfully amazed with myself, with how I am expressing such strong motivations by my seemingly premature, however clearcut, decision making and open communication.
Because here’s a woman who has made up her mind, – a year ago already! -, and nothing, absolutely nothing, has changed in that.
For my willingness to live by the principles of unconditional love and trust in Spirit guidance, for believing in love at first sight and taking responsibility and action out of sheer enthusiasm, I have asked myself so many times during these past twelve months:
‘Am I weird for being this way?’.
To which I received a straight up, blunt answer this morning:
‘What makes YOU so goddamn unique?’.
And I imagine this kind of rejoinder to be coming straight from him.
And while I was just smoking my tobacco roll up I thought:
‘He is so right’.
And I am positive we would both agree on the idea that this is exactly what we would both describe as ‘God in ourselves’, that’s giving us the power, courage and strength to go about our lives in such a manner.
From my memoirs ‘Tobacco – Curse & Blessing of a Shamaness‘
By Kiki Toao
God. I love this woman.
Always thinking what I’m thinking
There’s only ONE fucking reason why I’m not smashing this bowl of yoghurt to pieces against the wall right now and that’s Rombout has to deal with the mess I am going to make of this house if I’m not keeping my temper under control right this fucking minute!
I’m ready to tear the whole fucking place rightd wdijop’vhiou;grw!!!!
GO ON BABY
Oh yeah you’d love me doing it, wouldn’t you
I said go on..
Go kiss my lovely Batak Bottocks, mister.
You’re just like me for fuck’s sake!
I’ve known that from the very fucking start!
From my memoirs ‘Tobacco – Curse & Blessing of a Shamaness
By Kiki Toao
Real leather sleeveless jacket, artwork inspired by the soldiers I am and have been in touch with.
Given the new direction I have taken with my art, I figured some real deal army fetish clothing should not be missed in my collection.
Not sure if I’m fully satisfied with the artwork yet – the question always remains: when is it finished?
And I always need to tell myself also to know when to stop…
The Everlasting Quest!
To be worn by a man, or nicely somewhat 80s style oversized by a woman.
Will at some point be for sale on this website (working on a shop, yay).
People often times regard me as a fearless person.
And though I appreciate the fact it is their way of showing their respect for how I go about life, I can say with absolute certainty this an overestimation of my personality.
I know Fear.
I’ve experienced it many times and in fact, I choose to embrace it instead of blocking it out.
When Fear speaks, I listen.
I invite it in so we can have a decent chat about what’s going on, and this way it has proven itself to be a powerful ally.
By Kiki Toao
I experience to be lying in front of me, as a future calling, is
something I don’t even believe myself.
This calling, it has
grabbed a hold of me, captivated me in suspension and anticipation of
what is about to happen in, hopefully, the near future.
am tired, very tired.
Tired of waiting.
Tired of fake
Tired of lies and deceit.
Or at least, this is what
it has seemed to be so far: one big trap of betrayal and deceit.
have been given a very big fucking reason to mistrust everything and
everyone I have experienced and communicated with spiritually so
My mind is desperately struggling to separate the wheat from the chaff, to distinguish truth and reality from make belief and wishful thinking.
have given up going against it.
“I surrender! I SURRENDER, ALRiGHT?!”, is one of my most important prayers at the moment.
I am doing the best I can to accept this possible future happenstance as a real possibility (and opportunity) and take every single bit of responsibility for it.
am very fortunate and ultimately blessed with a few, but very
trustworthy, loving friends and family members.
People who have faith and confidence in me, no matter what I decide to do.
People who have faith and confidence in my capabilities and distinctiveness.
People who admire me for my courage and my realization and acceptance of the necessity of taking risks, and taught me to do the very same: have faith and confidence in myself.
Boy-oh-boy, I need lots of that.
It is my dutiful task as a shaman to take responsibility for what is being presented to me; something I know to be going beyond my willpower, beyond our oh-so-beloved Western concept of freedom of choice.
For years have I been working on these visions, visions being imposed on me during shamanic initiation years ago. Visions I thought at the time to be purely random, chaotic, sprouting from my imagination and, most of all, not making any sense.
imagine yourself in a situation where you, as a skeptical, rational
reasoning human being, are observing such visions to become reality
one by one, almost as if you are watching some Powerpoint
presentation during a meeting in the office, ticking off every bullet
point from your checklist.
All of them, apart from two.
“Hmmm”, you’re wondering mindfully, “is this just me, or…?”
What conclusions to draw from this presentation?
No one knows for sure.
Tick tock, says the clock.
And I’m just wondering, and wondering and contemplating and…
You know what?
Welcome to Shamanism.
Over & Out,