Saturday, October 31, 2009

A Third Night of Exploration..

Kali. Kali Ma.
What do you have to teach me, oh symbolic archetype?

You are the destroyer of illusion. With failing arms and scythe in hand, you smoothly sever the heads of ego. Man and his inability to rise up to his powerful potential enrages you. With tongue flayed and the whites of your eyes and teeth on display, you firmly remind the withering souls that this planet, this Earth, this realm is but a playground for the gods and goddesses.

With a growl at the back of your throat and a fiery breath emanating from the deep pit of your bowels, you are sex personified. Your pugnacious lips bite at flesh. Your all knowing eyes pierce the divine. Your voluptuous curves hint, charm, and seduce. Your gravely tongue massages the roof of your mouth. Your dis-shelved hair drapes your black head as you throw it back and laugh.

You are opaque as night because, in the deep, dark wet soil, in the bottomless pits of the oceans, and in the whirling, black holes, life and creation springs forth. You stand firmly, perched on top of your counterbalance, the supernatural light of Lord Shiva - your man, your lover, your duality.

Soon, however, the dance shall begin. And, once again, revolving man and revolving woman will take their place in the lit heavens above and resume their eternal flow, as they return to their revolving posts around that great fire in the sky.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Kali Ma: In Honor of the Season



                         O Kali, my Mother full of Bliss! Enchantress of the almighty Shiva!
                          In Thy delirious joy Thou dancest, clapping Thy hands together!
                    
Thou art the Mover of all that move, and we are but Thy helpless toys.
                                                      ...Ramakrishna Paramhans

Kali came to me, not in a dream but as a physical manifestation called forth from the deep pits of my psyche.  Our first encounter was a mere few weeks ago.  I had been spending time with a client who had specifically asked for my help"Because I know you can take care of yourself," he had said.  He was a dark soul, burdened by the political correctness of nice-ities and the mundane.  He sought to illuminate dark shadows and light's natural counterbalance in every situation he entered into.  I knew enough to tread gently, but I tread nonetheless.  For I have no fear, especially when I am crystal clear within my own intention.


He and I came together, one last time, to paint our faces and explore, in movement, the characters and creatures that emerged from our sub-conscious.  I chose a black base paint simply because he had chosen white and I had recently read an article in CNN about "black face."  "What would life be like if I wandered through these city streets and navigated around its circuitous routes with a dark countenance?" I wondered.

During this first encounter, I was so transfixed by my new appearance that I wanted nothing more but to stare at the vivid whiteness found in my eyes.  I relished in gazing at my opened mouth and observing the stark contrast of my white teeth set against my pitch black face.  I quickly became intoxicated by this new vision.  I did not want to let it, let her, go.  Nonetheless, I had to.  With reluctance, I rubbed water and soap onto my face and I washed away the life blood and remnants of this other.

I was so inspired by this experience that I schemed to call it, to call her, forth once again.  I planned a "Moving with the Mask" workshop in which others were invited to take part in this timeless human ritual of face painting.  This past Tuesday, a group of twelve of us came together at the Performing Arts Workshop in Encinitas.  The mood in our intimate studio was light and there was a giddiness in the air.  We spent a brief time period applying brilliant colors in a myriad of ways to our own faces.  What emerged were clowns, dual super heroes, and butterflies.  Afterward, we were led through gentle warm-up exercises and then we were instructed to turn towards a mirror, as well as the mirror images of one another, and explore.  We were encouraged to discover not just the movement but the sound and vocabulary of this totem self.

As the evening progressed, and our workshop segued into our weekly barefoot boogie, non-face painted individuals wandered in.  Together, we shared the same play ground.  As I spun, twirled, and glided around, again with a black face and a light design of white paint layered on top, I expelled breathy growls, I bared my teeth, I rolled my eyes, and I stuck out my tongue.  As my initial intention had been to "explore my darkness in the dance."

Soon, a friend wandered in, danced with me, and exclaimed, "Kali!"  "Kali Ma!"  and I was re-born in that moment.  At the time, I knew very little of Kali, aside from the fact that she was an ancient Hindu goddess, celebrated as all-powerful and revered for her destructive bent.  Yet, her name stuck with me.  Who was this symbolic archetype that I was channeling?  And, what lessons could I apply from her teachings to my everyday life?  I took my hair our of a tight grip of constraint and unleashed my dancing prowess for the remainder of the evening.  The following day, I arose early to research.   

"Kali is a particularly appropriate image for conveying the idea of the world as the play of the gods. The spontaneous, effortless, dizzying creativity of the divine reflex is conveyed in her wild appearance. Insofar as Kali is identified with the phenomenal world, she presents a picture of that world that underlies its ephemeral and unpredictable nature. In her mad dancing, disheveled hair, and eerie howl there is made present the hint of a world reeling, careening out of control. The world is created and destroyed in Kali's wild dancing, and the truth of redemption lies in man's awareness that he is invited to take part in that dance, to yield to the frenzied beat of the Mother's dance of life and death."
"Kali is an ambivalent deity among the Hindu goddesses. Powerful as a destructive force against the ego self and inner demons, she also liberates souls to begin more spiritual life journeys and is recognized as a healing divine mother."

"Symbolically, Kali characterizes destruction or letting go of the past to make room for a more purposeful present and future. She stands for the concept of Mother Nature as not only a potent, destructive force but also a force that cleanses away the old to allow room for new, fertile ground."


Monday, October 19, 2009

My Victorianism

A backlit silhouette
of milky curves
and softening angles
she lends a hand

up

a powerful force
this thing called desire
its roots
root
rooting her
down down down through the earth's crust

exploring exotic terrain
the wet jungles
of possibility
he lurks lurks
lurks like a prowling cat in the grass
in the knee high, high grass

spinning, twirling, a kaleidoscope
of shape, form and light
she rises she reaches up up up
                                                     (photosynthesizing in the light)
he reaches down down down
they grab hold

a cosmic collision
fire and water
air and wood
earth and sky
body and spirit
male and female
radiating, penetrating

shifting plates
upthrusting rock
shooting out shooting out shooting
pow!

a black hole
and another universe is born.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

What is Intimacy: A Survey

Is it a kiss on the lips?
Is it sex?
Is it my laying on top of Natalie - draped across her pelvis?

Is it a conversation?
Is it sharing tears?
Is it eye contact?

Is it a willingness to meet in the middle?
Is it an agreement?
Is intimacy what we do only with our lover?  Parents?  Family?  And close friends? 
Is intimacy possible in a larger community?

Is intimacy taking things personally? 
Is it what we do to each other - how we dive below one another’s surfaces?
Is intimacy discovered in both the exertion of our own personal boundaries as well as the pushing open wider of these same perceived limitations?
Is intimacy choosing to inquire, “What’s wrong, and how can I assist you?”

Is intimacy found in the sharing of the body/your body/my body?
Is intimacy a worthwhile pursuit when, sooner or later, someone always/usually gets hurt?
Is intimacy necessary?

Are you afraid of intimacy?  Am I?

Do you crave intimacy?  Do you need it in your life? 
If so, how much of it do you need?
Can you imagine being intimate with a perfect stranger?  If so, how?
Can you be intimate with someone that you are not sexually energized by?
Do you seek intimacy out?  How?

Is intimacy staying on topic?
Is intimacy discovered in only the day-today?  Can it be found in an improvised, fleeting moment?
Is intimacy touch?  Is it contact? 

Will it hurt me if I am intimate with lots of people?
Will it hurt me if I am not?

Is intimacy sharing what is on your mind, and in your heart?
Is intimacy standing up for what you believe in?

Is intimacy a location?  Is it a place that we can all somehow arrive to? 
If so, can we arrive there together or do we have to take our own paths and journeys along the way?

Is intimacy a smell?  Does it make me want to come, or does it repel me off and away to a further distance?

Is intimacy a visual aesthetic?  Do I subconsciously choose whom I can be intimate with based upon the age and pigment of another’s skin, a lilting tongue, the amount of flesh that hangs from the body, or this other’s physical abilities & makeup?
Can I be intimate with someone who does not believe what I do, who does not think as I do, and who does not want what I want? 

Can I afford not to be?

Is intimacy a currency?  Is it something that can be exchanged for power, resources, time, or energy?

Is intimacy a wink?  Is it a flash of a smile, or a wave to the hand?
Is intimacy real?  Or, can it be argued that we cannot know intimacy with anyone but ourselves?

Are you intimate with yourself?  Am I?  If so, how?

Is intimacy a feeling?  Is it sensed, intuited and embodied?
Can intimacy be sustained for a long period of time?  Does it wax and wane? 
Is it possible to experience intimacy in short bursts?

Is intimacy the breath?  Is it life?

Is intimacy being and feeling vulnerable?
If so, how and when do you experience vulnerability? 
And, when do you refuse to allow yourself to be vulnerable?

Are you vulnerable?  Am I?

Just what is intimacy?

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Of Boundaries and Agreements

Last week, I found myself rendered inert by my own pain and sadness. 
I couldn't dance.  I lacked the motivation to write, to exercise, to make myself feel better.  All I craved was junk food, a good book and a comfortable bed.  My body, mind, and spirit desired, needed, sleep, healing, & rejuvenating slumber.

Yes, I had been triggered.  I had willingly allowed another to project pyschological abuse onto me.  It was heavy and it hurt.  I berated myself, "how could I have stayed in such a situation for so long?" and I wondered, "what is wrong with me that I keep going back for more?"  As the days passed, my energy, my life force, my chi became more and more blocked and stuck.  My intestinal processes refused to budge and I began to emit foul smelling, noxious gases from my rectum.  Still, I slept.

Because I have been staying back at my parent's home, in the house I grew up in on Ridge Road, all I had to do was look around me, here, to realize that my actions over the course of this past week merely emulated those of my most primary example - my parents.  I also recognized that for years now (hell, as it been almost a decade?), I have been unable to truly move forward with my life, to sincerely grab hold of my dreams and make them my reality, due to this self-imposed and physically manifested abusiveness.  (As is the nature of life, we attract to ourselves our mirror images - even as a standard cliche mistakenly purports that "opposites attract.")

Fortunately, I am finally at a place in my life where my community is expansive, supportive, and deep.  Although my vibrational frequency was extremely low last week, I kept my commitments to: meet with a friend and have a nature photography shoot; to work with this same friend in the studio, on his posture and alignment; to meet with another dear friend for a sunset beach walk, conversation, and dinner; and to attend a fundraiser for La Milpa Organica at the Belly Up Tavern (I forced myself to attend and I'm glad I did for the live music and my dancing feet lifted my spirits a bit).  In the process, I also shared with some other community members how I was feeling.  The advice I received in return was to try and find the sadness in the dance and to remember compassion - for myself.

Ultimately, what this experience drove home for me was that now is the time for me to work on and to truly own my boundaries and agreements.  What I mean by this is that I need to clearly define for myself what is okay, in terms of my own behavior as well as how others treat me, so that I can then effectively communicate, in the direct moment, when my boundaries have been crossed and when this is absolutely not okay.  "I did not like that touch."  Furthermore, I need to continue practicing defining and communicating my boundaries so that I have crystallized the protective measures of walking away, for good, when the need arises.  I need to harness the discipline of doing this early on in every relationship, in any kind of relationship, so that I am no longer confused by the imperfections of "love."

Yes, I have walked away, for good, this time around.  No calls, no visits, no friendship, no way.

Conversely, I am simultaneously working on my agreements.  In other words, I am developing the clarity in knowing what I want.  Then, I am applying this understanding in my day-to-day communication.  For example, I am learning to ask for what I desire, in every moment - water, a cleaner knife, a kiss, a raise, to be recognized, to be humbled.  The flip side of this discipline is that I may not always receive what I want.  Through my practice, I am learning to not just accept rejection but to be grateful for it.  I am beginning to appreciate and honor the "No's" because they too provide a learning lesson while possibly opening other doors.  (What about that other, old adage: "When one door closes, another opens?")

I have found two, great role models here in San Diego whose life's work begins with these two premises.  Kamala Devi and her partner, Michael McClure, have been married for seven years. Together, they are raising a young child.  They are also national advocates for polyamory, and they are well known figures within the Tantra community.  Yes, everybody, what I am writing is that Tantra is teaching me basic life skills that, for some reason, are not taught in our contemporary model of education.  (And, why is this?) 

As the dancefloor has illuminated, the metaphor of movement can be applied to all arenas of my multi-faceted life.  Thus, whether or not I choose to use these developing skills, of exerting my boundaries and inquiring of my agreements, in polyamory is irrelevant.  What matters is that I wield and utilize them to craft and create for myself the life story that I have always dreamed.  At almost 33 years of age, no one, not my parent's, my past boyfriends, and nothing, including my previous experiences, is responsible for the choices and decisions I make now, today.   Today, I take full responsibility for me and my behavior, for self-actualizing and becoming the woman I dream of and the human being that I already am!     

The End of Camelot

"What binds us together across our differences in religion or politics or economic theory is that when each one of us is cut, our blood flows red.  Mine does and yours does too.  Those who would try to appropriate God or family or country for their own narrow ends, who believe that religious faith is the property of one particular ideology, forget the width of God's embrace, the healing power of a family's arms, and the generosity of this country's vision.  God, family, and nation belong to us all.
And they belong to us because of all that we share as human beings - the wonder that we experience when we look at the night sky; the gratitude that we know when we feel the heat of the sun; the sense of humor in the face of the unbearable and the persistence of suffering.  And one more thing: the capacity to reach across our differences to offer a hand of healing....
I wish that life were simpler.  I wish that loved ones didn't have to die young.  I wish that tragedy never haunted a single soul.  But to wish all this is to ask for an end to our humanity.  God, family, and country sustains us all.
Legend has it that in the ancient world, a poetry contest was held each year.  The third-place winner received a rose made out of silver.  The second-place winner received a rose made out of gold.  But the first place winner received a real rose, a beautiful living rose that soon wilted, dried up, and died.  I ask you, is there a single one among us who would not choose the living rose?"
--from Edward M. Kennedy's "True Compass"

Regardless of what you may think or feel about the very public lives of the Kennedy family, some of its very private members bestowed these United States of America with some of our greatest legacies - the Civil Rights Act of 1964, the Special Olympics, the Peace Corps, and the push to get the first person on the moon.  As politicians and philanthropists, the Kennedy family was, and still is, renown for launching successful campaigns against organized crime and school segregation, while working tirelessly on behalf of America's dispossesed and its powerless.

Born into a life of luxurious comfort and high class, the nine Kennedy siblings were raised on the ideal that looking out for one's neighbors was not just good public policy, it was a human necessity.  Consistently reminded to not flaunt their wealth, the Kennedy kids were continually brought back down to planet Earth whenever the patriarch of their family, Joseph, felt that one of his four boys or five girls was getting a little too big for his or her britches.  Although rich and relatively famous, the Kennedy family, who were a tight knit group of Irish Americans, also had first-hand experience with the ugly face of persecution and intolerance.  As an Irish Catholic, Jack Kennedy never quite fit in at Harvard.  His ascendancy as the 35th President of the United States broke through one glass ceiling - as he was the first Roman Catholic ever elected.

Contrary to what the media would have you believe, the Kennedy family was not simply beloved for its iconic fashion statements, attractive genes, and deep pockets.  We loved the Kennedys because, for almost a century, this very American, royal family fought hard to: protect the rights of the average, American worker; provide a better education to all American school children; and seek health care coverage for every single citizen in this nation.  The Kennedy's were true patriots who believed in this country's initial, founding principles of democracy - in honoring the minority and its voice; in looking out for its blue collared employees; in providing a hand up to those in need; and in remembering that the greatest sacrifice we can make is ourselves for one another.

As Camelot comes to a close with the passing of Senator Ted Kennedy, I wonder:
"Who, in this era to come, will rise up and speak for the disenfranchised, for the poor, for the trees, for this planet, and for us?"  For, we are now entering an epoch in which it is no longer our civil rights that are at stake.  It is now our humanity that is in grave danger.
"Will you?"