Whose story am I telling?

7/29/2023
Amed, Bali

Dear Reader,

Again I’ll try to explain this novel I’m writing, this story I’m telling. Who’s story? Not clear to me. It’s blurry but I see a hazy shape. Am I telling the story of a wild sunflower who loved a pirate. Can her heart shatter into a million rainbows? There is a siren, a Waterman, a sisterhood of mermaids. There is a mystical ship that hates men. Voices are trapped in throats. Silence is endured. There is starving and seduction. I can tell you the story of how fiercely a woman can fight to survive. I can introduce you to a bloodthirsty huntress. I can take you into a world that delights in mischief. Together we can live for pleasure. Let’s float on the waves of whimsy and poison our lovers. Whose story am I telling? My world is expanding with so many parts and characters I can hardly keep track. Let’s keep going and pray it starts to make sense.

Love & Rainbows,
Cha Wilde 

I’m writing a book.

Three weeks ago, something inside me decided to say a giant YES and I texted Lindsay (my IFS healer, a doula and an expert in creative writing). I asked Lindsay to coach me, to help me write a book.

“A book is banging on my mind, pestering me. I see many paths forward and it’s a new world for me to create structure in writing. For 22 years I’ve written free flow in my journal, poems, songs and blog posts. I’m comfortable with the create and move on. I’m uncomfortable with the review, edit, craft and work on writing project for long long time. I would love to find some clarity on ways I can progress that honors and excited all my parts. They are currently afraid of overwhelm, being spread thin, starting a project and getting bored, perfectionism, getting sidetracked, not having enough fun, not doing it efficiently. I am open to working with a coach and it’s important to me that we use IFS in the creative process. You’re the perfect person to guide me through this.”

This book has been flooding me, pouring in with intense passion. I drive around Koh Chang on the lime green scooter, catching the words in the wind. I pull over to the dusty roadside and draw my phone out of the side pocket of my orange backpack. I frantically type the sentences as they arrive, shove the phone back in the bag and drive off again, zooming through the sun speckled jungle roads (which are in astoundingly great condition)!

Thousands of words are filling my handwritten journal, phone memos, word documents, and text messages. The universe is recently when you show up to collaborate with her. “Oh you wanna play?” She says with a hungry smile. “Alrighty then. Get ready.” And so begins another epic journey of creation, another all consuming project, another deep dive into the soul space, another attempt to explain and understand what may always remain a the mystery, another fun way to pass day by day giving me a little purpose to please my ego and distract me from existential dread, a playful way to express the many parts I live with and care for inside me, another contribution to this human culture, another offering making use of my gifts, another way to let go of whatever I’ve been clinging to for so long, another way to spend more time with my friends, another way to liberate myself from the past and being light into the world, another obsession, another playground, another attempt to be god, another opportunity to surrender to something greater than myself, and just another project.

My day has revolved around my morning journaling habit for decades, especially strong in the past five years. It’s my favorite part of everyday. Now, to their great delight, my writer parts are being allowed more hours in each day to play. Hours and hours. I’m alone on a tropical island. Thousands of people are hidden around me in bungalows, tattoo parlors, noisy bars with off vibes, beachy shacks, vegetarian restaurants, and taxi trucks. I’m ignoring them all. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to be along with my parts, their stories, these empty pages I’ve agreed to fill quickly, and a lot of coffee, melting chocolate, smoothies, fine grains of yellow sand, long joyrides on the scooter, and a sun so hot it will melt me if I leave the shade. I’ve carved out time for solitude, reflection and creation. Leave me be. I’m going deep.

As I write this story, I am also writing about the process of writing. I’m happy to share some of these updates with you on this blog.

If you’re excited to follow the development of this book project more intimately, join my studio members (my online community) where I’ll be sharing more detailed project updates, reflections on writing, behind the scenes of my creative writing project, and sneak peeks. With studio members I’ll be sharing snippets of my writing and video clips of me reading and offering commentary on this work.

Sleeping with Trees in Italy

I grew up in a magic jungle. There was a special tree in our house and if I sat underneath it, nobody could come in and get me. Mom would have to stand beyond the branches and speak to me from a distance. In my magic jungle I was safe.

NB: My childhood was safe and magical. This tree was a luxurious creative gift from my mother, a gift that taught me boundaries and the healing power of trees. 

As a grown woman I still seek out trees. Wherever I go I find “my tree”, the tree that I will return to and sit beneath to rest, ponder, restore and retreat.

I found a palm tree in downtown Las Vegas. I have my own palm tree in Maui. I have a tree in Seattle and Miami. I found a tree in the pitch black night in the Cascade mountain as riddum (the worst kind of music in my opinion was forcing me to escape from a renegade rave). Yikes. That night I sat in a circle of ancient grandpa trees who allowed me to be with them as they told me stories of my people beneath the stars. I asked them to make me more like a tree and they helped me be okay with being human.

Today I slept for hours in an apartment in Venice, sun shining in through the European curtains. My family was out eating fresh croissants, gawking at ornate cathedrals. I did not join them. For me, there was magic aplenty to rest in solitude in this old building. I dozed in white sheets, occasionally opening my eyes to look out at the courtyard and see this tree. To simply be left alone in sunny slumber beneath an Italian blue sky with a quiet tree outside my window was enough. In fact, it was everything I’ve been longing for; a deep wholesome uninterrupted unrushed siesta. I unwound until my feet tingled with soft internal bliss.

— looking for trees in Italy

CHA WILDE

Between Sunset and Sunrise in Venice

Negative mindset drags me down and contagiously I start complaining. The people around me don’t understand our extremism and I watch myself degrade and dissolve into the unwell ways.

Can you not sit with me though the darkness? Why must I ache my way through the nights of the soul while you stumble for the light switch only to blind me into seeing nothing different.

Oh, of course. I get it now. You are in the way of the blind still. Try and be damned to bring me back. Only because you cannot yet join me in the genuine dawn. I reject your nightlight.

Bring me the glow of fire! I am not burned as she rises gently, soothing away my moonlit pain, serenading the sweet new day. I see her as I hear the morning songbirds. I await the sunrise within with courage.

Maybe one day we’ll share patience and watch the night dance with day in deeper stillness, deeper togetherness. 

between sunset and sunrise in Venice,

CHA WILDE

Morning Chill in Venice

I wanted to belong to the old places of this world but alas I have always been the new girl. 

I know how I want to live and what I am here to do. I enjoy living my lifestyle, my crafted routine, in new places.

I’m not interested in walking around as a tourist and talking about other people. I want to sleep, write, produce music, practice yoga, workout, meditate and be in still silent moments of solitude surrounded by beauty with friends nearby.

I enjoy the space to myself to explore within. I enjoy the silence in which I rest. I retreat into my music and explore my experiences through words with handwritten ink.

When I am gifted this time and this way of passing through it, I feel fully grounded and fulfilled and my body flows energy more playfully and socially as a result. Forcing the play or social interactions before my silent time is harsh on my nervous system and I shut down quickly to protect my inner world from invasion of outer energies.

I have a delicate garden within and I build a fortress every morning before I open my gates to the wider world which thoughtlessly tramples my flowers while screaming in my ear that I ‘ought to be more jovial’’. My joy runs deep from the garden well and I share it happily with all when I have had the garden to myself for just a moment, the first moments of each sacred day. 

— love & beauty from Venice

CHA WILDE

Opinions and Dragon Fire

“Everyone is asking me to create an album. This will be my first project and I know it’s desired because it has been specially requested. Music that is magical, that touches people deeply and really helps them feel alive in joy and peace, celebration and rest.

I’m either celebrating or resting, living with tenacity or gratitude. I’ve been meek around My Great Love, not living in my dragon fire energy, tiptoeing on emotions, soft voice. It’s luke warm and it’s gross.

I’m not giving myself enough credit. I have my shit together. I know how much work it takes to develop myself to this point. I believe in what I’m doing. I have opinions, one of which is to not cling tightly to one’s own opinions. I give more weight/credit to other people’s opinions out of respect and a desire to be respected as open-minded but in doing so I disrespect myself and my extremely valid opinions.

I have earned my opinions. I stand behind them powerfully. Call me whatever you want. I don’t care. I know who I am and what I believe and what I want. I do not need approval, permission or explanation.

When I look at photos of Music Love on Facebook, I feel love and attraction to him. I’m amazed that a talented handsome man is so incredible at communication and validation and vulnerability. He’s an incredible human and ‘package’. He’s totally exposed, transparent, visible. My Great Love is willing to share but he’s more mysterious.”

— from my journal | July 15, 2016

LOVE & BEAUTY
cha wilde

People Will Say YES to Me

“When I’m around ‘My Great Love’ I feel more at peace with where I’m at and more loving towards other people. I don’t like how it feels to imagine or see My Great Love sexually attracted to another girl on the dance floor and I really struggle when I picture him with a girl in a relationship (like the kind I’m building with ‘Music Love’). The open relationship, free love, does force you to grow stronger as a human and yet that strength doesn’t 100% eliminate human emotions. It’s a feeling that’s unpleasant to see him attracted to someone else and desiring to be with someone else and I can feel it, acknowledge that that feeling is not helpful and move on to a more helpful feeling or perspective. At a rave, festival or concert, instead of thinking ‘he likes that girl and wants to be with her and not with me’, it’s more accurate and helpful to think ‘Oh cool, he found another human we can play with and do stuff that’s fun and feels good.”. It’s a group activity.

All things sexual are not sacred. Music Love taught me that. I’ve always assumed other kids don’t want to play with me because they never invited me or they said I was weird. I feared being obnoxious. But as an adult, I’m awesome. Pretty much everyone likes being around me — I’m fun, chill, accepting, enthusiastic, positive energy. Everyone loves it and I do get invited and included now. Flirting, partying, dancing, sex — it’s all just fun and playful and best when shared together.

I’m not in 2nd grade anymore. People are going to say YES. I’m powerful, desirable and playful. Seeing My Great Love excited by another girl is an invitation for me to join in and play with them. If she’s not okay with me or open to open relationships, he won’t be into her because it’s not a personality fit. He never wants me to leave him alone with a girl so he can have her to himself. It’s always better for him if I’m there.

I need to replace the negative thoughts in my head with positive ones. I am wanted and included. Other people want me to be involved. Other people will say ‘yes’ to me and gladly accept what I offer. People long for my company. They long for my gifts, sharing, stories, energy, music, advice, knowledge, love. People long for me.

I must not hold back. If I hold back I’m not just holding myself back from what I want, I’m holding back from giving them what they want. If I care about them I wouldn’t hold back, I would give wholeheartedly.

Life is not a competition with enemies. It is a playground and everyone is your friend.”

— from my journal | July 15, 2016

Love & Beauty,
CHA WILDE

If I Know What I Want, Will I Go for It?

“I’m sitting at Nintendo feeling stressed about my life. I’m not satisfied with my body, not pushing hard enough or often enough in workouts, not pushing myself enough musically, feeling discouraged and doubtful about a career in music.

I feel like I’m starting too late and I’ve missed my chance. I’m so far behind because I never fully trained in music. I’m like a movie — the same as Eddie the Eagle — the newbie who wants to turn pro right out of the gate. That story is so rare and so discouraged by others when they see it happening. But everyone fucking loves it when they see Eddie the Eagle succeed and they all apologize.

I fear that opposition and failing. I fear ‘they’ will be right.
Like the lyrics in my song ‘Impossible Things’

what if everybody’s right and I should only dream at night

I feel foolish saying I want to be famous, to be on Sasquatch stage, and then to have My Great Love see me being mediocre at guitar and having Music Love reveal to me how much I have to learn about music theory.

I’m always fearing that I’m being humored. Music Love tells me I’m amazing to boost my confidence but he’d see that same potential in anyone which makes me feel that its less special or significant.

But maybe there is that incredible potential in everyone? Maybe all of us can do it. The deciding factor is who is going to go for it. Who is going to keep going when it gets hard? Who is going to push when everybody else decides to take a break? Who is going to listen to the voices in their own head and now be pushed around by everyone else’s voices?

All this time I’ve been worried about having enough skill / talent, if I can meet all the high standards of the industry. I haven’t allowed the possibility that all I have to do is decide. Decide to do it and make it my #1 focus above all else and push.

When all the voices say I’m foolish, I make myself blind to them.

I’ve been confused and flickering, feeling weakness in myself, shying away instead of living with full determined fire raging. I’ve been staying open-minded and flexible like a yogi and that mentality struggles to fit into my idea of a rockstar mentality. How can they fit together, without hindering each other?

What feelings do I really want? What am I really going for? What is my direction? I’ve been lukewarm on many passions and projects, spread thin. Two people this week told me they finally surrendered to what they truly want, their path that’s been calling them and instantly things started falling into place, opportunities started appearing. I desperately want that focus so I can open up the dam and have all those opportunities and miracles flow in.

I have to know what I want, declare it, own it and ask for help and opportunities from the people that can give it to me. I saw this happen with yoga teaching; miraculous leaps and loopholes. When people knew what I wanted and saw my potential and saw me working hard for it, they actively helped me succeed. People want to see others succeed. They want to be involved and be part of fueling the greatness. They feel valued and important when they are asked. They feel the power they have to powerfully impact someone’s life and see great things happen.”

— from my journal | July 15, 2016

love & beauty
CHA WILDE

Singing Sad Songs in the Closet

Davey has started going back to the office. I’ve gotten used to him working from home since we’ve been in COVID quarantine. Now, suddenly alone at home in the middle of the day I am remembering these sweet hours of solitude. The music is starting to flow again, like a shy winter stream coming back to life in spring. The first dribbles of water are trickling through my soul and out my fingers.

This new song came from a moment of tears. I felt so panicky. My nervous system was shaking with anxious attachment style being triggered and some sexual complex trauma. I had been blended with my anxious lonely sad parts for days now. Thankfully when I pick up a guitar and start singing into a microphone with lots of reverb in the headphones I magically fall back into myself. Ahhh…there I am. This is who I am and what I’m meant to be doing. So much better. It wakes up inside me.

I write the super sad pathetic song first. I just say it like it is and pray nobody is nearby to hear me through the walls. It’s so raw and kinda ugly in a twisted overly emotional way. I surprise myself in these times when I’m like “woah I can’t believe I sound sad depressing!” But the singing of it drains the depressingness from my body and I feel lighter. The words start to cheer up, a sweet melody marches in behind the dry monotone sentences I’d been previously mentioning.

Singing the sad songs feels shitty, kinda like scrubbing a dirty pan. But…but…the glorious but…. Keep scrubbing and soon the sponge starts sliding smoothly across the surface. The music starts flowing through the body and the rusty gritty gunk in the emotional system is cleared. The music is like drain-o. It’s cleansing the system. Just like breathwork. Just like movement. It’s just stuck energy that needs to flow the fuck out! So sing the sad songs. I’m embarrassed to hear myself making those sounds but considering how much better I feel afterwards, I do it.

Same goes for the primal scream, yah? We are animals that need to make noise sometimes, ugly noises. Looking and sounding pretty all the time is what’s killing us slowly. Life blooms from the compost pile.

Love,
CHA WILDE