“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer."
- Rainer Maria Rilke, 1903, in "Letters to a Young Poet"
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Your Ride is Now Up
"Close your eyes, tap your heels together three times and think, "There's no place like home. There's no place like home." --Dorothy
"Be Gentle," the sounds roll off of the flicking tongues of others.
"Be Gentle ~ with yourself," the words reflect in their lovely visages.
Yes, it is hard.
This journey.
This pushing and pulling, through space and time,
the grasping and clawing,
the hoping and crying.
It isn't easy. Even when you're trying with all your might,
to go with the flow, to follow synchronicity and to simply
trust.
Yes - flow shouldn't require a great output of energy.
Flow, ideally, is the result of natural forces
simply
expanding and contracting,
molding and forming,
bending and aligning,
falling, in and out of place,
with grace and ease.
Over and over again.
However, we live in a world wildly careening out of control.
We exist in a construct in which force
against the planet under foot
and against the nature found within
is coerced and manipulated,
is twisted and turned
placed under lock and key
and distilled into a marketplace economy.
For too long now, the swinging pendulum
has madly tilted in one direction.
Like the pirate ship at a local fair,
we took our complacent seats on the same side
of a large, rocking boat. Its soothing lull, like
a babe in the manger, rocked us right into a sleep-walking
repose. We have become scarecrows.
Only, for too long now, our static pole has been
maniacally perched upon a sharp 45 degree angle.
For too long now, we have been peering down upon
a brink,
an edge, a critical point beyond which either
catastrophe or success lay.
The balance we all seek
the equilibrium we all hope for
and the middle ground where we each can meet
peacefully, equally,
and justly
is here, now.
However, it does require the turbulence
and turmoil of a scary, Earth-shaking counter-swing.
Before we find our neutral starting place, once again, we must first
let go
and experience the fear-inducing upswing
of righting ourselves.
We must first allow for
the fantastically momentous swing
back in the other direction.
During these tragically beautiful times, our mistakes are plentiful.
For we only know the ledge we have been perched upon -
it has been our comfortable view for the duration of our middle class, American lives.
As the G-Force takes over and we begin to free fall
we lash out, we try to grab at a vanishing phantom. We slash at the air and the others around us.
We hurt, and we get hurt.
We try to hang on
to what has come before
to a modern, 20th century era of technological advancement and capitalist dominance.
Only, what once appeared as the firm lines and right angles of
a carved ship has simply always been
a mirage.
There is no firm hand-hold outside of ourselves to hold onto to,
there is no safety net
there is no easy exit off of this carnival ride.
There is only the discovery
of illusion
of a maze of mirrors
and a talking head behind a screen.
There is only the recognition
of ride-operators and builders,
of parts and systems,
of a machine playing itself out.
The fountain of freedom can collectively be drank from
only when we each set ourselves FREE
and shakingly return
back to a middle ground
where every voice and body,
and each living entity is equal
in weight and value.
"I'm gonna free fall
out into nothing,
I'm gonna leave this
world for awhile." --Tom Petty
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
On a 21st Century Trans-Identity
 |
| photo by CHC Designs |
Internationally acclaimed performance artist, Thoth (pronounced like 'sloth,' as he recently shared with me) has landed in San Diego, along with his Tribal Baroque other half, Lila'Anglique. Together, they have been ticketed for "illegally" presenting their 'Prayformances,' down a Balboa Park hallway, as well as celebrated at local art shows. All the while, they have been experiencing a sense of finding tribe, as Thoth told me last weekend, here in our sleepy, southern California community. This weekend is your last opportunity to catch their "Bless the World" tour. They will be "Prayforming" again at ArtLab Studios on Adams Avenue. I highly recommend you attend because their visual and sonic echoes of the palpable excitement that is our 21st century Trans-Identity will continue to resonate long after we are all gone.
For we are now located within a climactic period of human history when we can transcend all of the superficial differences that have kept us separate and segregated, for too long now. Thoth with with his Mayan warrior build and regal Egyptian appearance, with his skirts and unwieldy hair, with his operatic voice wailing in an exotic and made-up tongue, with his raw vulnerability pouring onto the cement under his foot-stomping, bell-shaking powerful legs, with his virtuoso violin playing and deep reverence for this EarthBody, reminds us that we can overcome all of the pain of our perceived separation. We can once again simply Be - human. Together, with all of our religion and our dogma, our ethnicity and our culture, our persuasions and, even, our gender. Not black or white, not man or woman, not straight or gay, not either or, nor for or against. Here, now, in the fullness of our human expression, which is a vast continuum that includes all of the above (as well as none of it.) Yes, we can transcend what we have, up until now, considered our identities - the pretty and ugly, the sad and the mad, the fierce and the gentle, the willing and defiant. This possibility is what makes these moments NOW so irrevocably potent! YES - we can come together in the name of what is good for all, including our planet.
However, we are precariously balanced on a tipping point, upon a high wire up above a great abyss that straddles what came before, in the modern 20th century, and what is to come next, in this 21st century, post-modern era. What we all need to understand is that maintaining our balance requires ACTION on each of our parts. We are not mere cogs in a wheel, swept along in a great tide of time. Rather, we are powerful deities capable of manifesting VISION and choosing a collective flow. "Where is that we want to flow?" is the question du jour. Well, where do you want to go? If we were to step out of our ego, and honor that we cannot all have abundant material resources and fame but we can each take just enough while celebrating a vibrant health wealth, what would you choose? In your heart of hearts, what will truly feed your spirit?
On the flip side are the choices we make. For with this now comes the very real possibility that we are no longer merely transcending our superficial human identities, those that have been based on lines of color and borders, of brainwashing and propaganda. For we are now at a crossroads where a very real possibility is that we are transcending what it means to be human. We are transcending our very own biology - our connection to this planet Earth upon which we have grown and flourished for millennium. Ray Kurzweil would call it "the dawn of the spiritual machine." And, I don't know about you, but I am passionately in LOVE with the sky, these birds, the trees, this air, the stars and, even, you. I'm not ready to transcend any of it, for I have only recently allowed myself to finally show up to it in the fullest of my expression. I hope you will, too.
"Only WE Can Set US Free"
YES, peace. Yes, peace. YES! Sometimes, in order for PEACE to happen, we have to stand up, move forward together and say, "Basta!" ENOUGH of the madness, the take take taking our oil, our land, our PEACE, our LOVE. Our RIGHT to be HUMAN ~... without oppression and force, without the threat of brutality, without hate. This isn't hate - though, maybe it looks scary and kinda like it to you. This is a PEOPLE RiSiNg, a people who were once tired and sad people. A people who were once dying and murdered people. THIS is the WORLD - Standing Up, Being Counted, Speaking for this Planet. This is US DEMANDING THE RIGHT TO CHOOSE OUR OWN GOVERNING BODY. OUR BODIES, these Earth Bodies, OUR MOVEMENT, ONE universal motion. Together, through shared space and time, we can vibrate on a frequency of LOVE. YES! i know it looks scary and it can feel scary. However, if we think critically about the moments up until now that have taken place all over the world for decades, centuries, millennium, then do we see love, peace & the inalienable right to live in a world, free of violence and hate? if you say "yes," then i will shush. promise. if you have other ideas for how to create this "peace" you type of, then please share. ♥ ♥
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Si, se puede...
"In the presidential campaign of '08, Obama never tired of telling voters they were the change they had been looking for.
The people of Tunisia & Egypt have turned a clever slogan into an undeniable fact.
They did not wait for permission to take action.
If we want another world we must all learn from them.
Can we look beyond the stereotypes offered by our media, and see that the Egyptians and the Tunisians are now daring us to be free?
Yes, we can."
--Dan Hind
Just a Few Tidbits...
“From the depth of need and despair, people can work together, can organize themselves to solve their own problems and fill their own needs with dignity and strength.”
~ Cesar Chavez
“I think a major act of leadership right now, call it a radical act, is to create the places and processes so people can actually learn together, using our experiences.”
~ Margaret J. Wheatley
“Conversation means being able to disagree and still continue the discussion.”
~ Dwight Macdonald
“Man does not weave this web of life. He is merely a strand of it. Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself.”
~ Chief Seattle
Monday, February 21, 2011
On Modern Tribalism: A Tale of Hawk Medicine
Slowly, we arrived at a still-point, standing above the native coastal desert shrubbery that delineates Florida Canyon. We breathed in, sensing the molecules as they accumulate and pass in through our nasal passages, down the backs of our throats, filling our lungs, expanding our ribcage and, if we breathe deeply enough, tickling our diaphragms. Together, we experienced LOVE as it tingled in our chests. Just then, soaring up above our Earth-bound bodies, a Red Tail Hawk beat its wings as it flew in large, oblong circles. "Cawk, cawk, cawk," it screeched as we stood, still, tall and proud, receiving all that this holy messenger had to offer us - a dose of Earth Medicine for our continued great adventure of this be-ing human.
How we each choose to integrate this medicine into our day-to-day lives is, as always, personal and up for interpretation. Here are a few websites that I like to refer to for my initial Earth Medicine readings: www.morningstar.netfirms.com/ and www.newagemystic.com/default.aspx. However, as we made our way back down the grassy knoll, our specific Hawk messenger followed us. Up, over head, it passionately expressed that it needed us to notice it. "CAWK CAWK CAWK CAWK CAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWK," it screeched as its wings flapped violently. We had no recourse but to stop and notice.
"NOW IS THE TIME. NOW IS THE TIME. NOW!!!!!!!!!" I imagine it was saying.
Ominous clouds rolled over head, as we found ourselves caught in a Saturday afternoon shower. We took refuge underneath a small tree near that brooding, blue and black building, also known as the downtown Police Headquarters. Like anything unpleasant, the deluge soon passed and we continued our way, back towards the inviting glow of the Prosperity Hive. Warm and relieved of our wet clothing, we continued our investigation into Modern Tribalism with mask painting indoors.
Throughout time, Hawks have represented Visionaries and Messengers. Hawk medicine unites Heaven and Earth and is thought to encourage us to EMPOWER AND FULFILL OUR VISIONS. In Kundalini Science, the color RED represents the Root Chakra for Primal Sexuality. This first Chakra is located in the region around one's tailbone, pelvis and sex organs.
Hawks mate for Life.
The ability to soar high above in order to catch a glimpse of the bigger picture is one aspect of Hawk Medicine that makes it so valuable. Hawks can also remind us to take the "higher road" - to fly above those who we perceive are trying to oppose us.
In my Hawk medicine reading, I also chose to receive - loud and clear - the message that I need to shut the #$%^ up and take time to "soar above" before speaking. Ta'rot has been telling me this lately as well, as I have pulled the "Silence" card on a number of occasions now.
"Silencio, Cara! Silencio." Please, feel free to tell me this whenever my brain and mouth are on hyper-drive.
Really.
Honestly.
Anytime.
"Be quiet" is all you have to say.
And, I will listen.
Promise.
Friday, February 18, 2011
(in time, all will be revealed)
Entering the Rose with Rumi
There is a secret path to the heart
winding through a rose,
where deep between the layers of roseness,
a lover can find the way
to the embedded clues of the truth,
hidden there by the warriors of love.
There is no battle cry, no army,
no weapons, no flag to carry,
for the wayfarer must enter
the deep jungle of fragrance
and alluring silken beauty
to find the heart within the rose.
Enter the rose with Rumi,
and he will show you the way,
spinning you around and dancing
you into laughter and wonder.
The mystics know the way of the heart
and guard the secrets well.
No map exists, and no words can describe
the alchemy of the journey
that turns you into light.
Fall out of your well laid plans,
and fall deeply into love.
Love will meet you inside the rose,
and you will awaken
in the beauty of your heart.
Naomi
(this post and last found at: www.circleoflight.net/readers.html)
(so much goodness is found on this here super highway!)
Souls DesireMy Soul has been searching For one true love To relieve it from its aching For the promise from above The promise of a twin flame Its other half The whole from which it came It wants to love and laugh To have its chance to dance With the one for eternity My soul wants to advance For a love with such beauty Searching for its mirror image My soul will know when it’s found They will be free of baggage The love will be profound Now is not the time There are lessons to be learned But maybe in this lifetime My soul is not concerned For true love is unconditional A bond that cannot be broken A love that is truly blissful A love with the heart open A love pure and natural A love built on trust A love that is truly spiritual This really is a must So my soul must be patient To cherish the love in the heart For the twin is never really absent And never far apart By Peggy Brockwell |
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Words on Love Spoken Long Ago...
by Bahauddin Valad, Father of Rumi (1150-1231)
Alif Lam Mim.
If God says We, meaning I AM, then any pronoun I use becomes superfluous. Designations fall like petals. Wisdom comes, and I feel such pleasure flooding me that I fear losing my sense of it. I tell myself: Inquire into how lover, beloved and the other ways of loving exist as one thing.
As it is with God's qualities and human beings, so there is a unity with love. In the heart there is no room for differentiation, only oneness and the Beloved. I would give away books, lands, my virtues and reputation, everyone, for one hour inside that Presence.
(Maarif 1:172-173)
This is how God talked with Muhammad, saying, 'We have given you victory' (Quran, 48:1), There was companionship between them, 'We have sent down to you a book' (4:105), and 'Have we not expanded your heart' (94:1)?
They spoke together like friends. Has anyone else had such an experience? And since the divine mystery is part of everything and everyone, must there not be such nearness inside everyone?
An answer came to this wondering argument. There are ways unique to each soul. One gets handed pain, another love, another lust. One must go through terrible punishment, another extensive comforting.
But the way of God with prophets is on another level, where miracles and grace and visions of the unseen world come. Aspire to that plane. Otherwise you will continue to speak to God about heat and cold, food, livelihood, sleep, walking, and the various human theories about mystery.
My prayer is this: When I am alone with You, let me feel pleasure of a surrendered love. Give me the oneness as I sit by myself beyond the satisfaction of any desire.
(Maarif 1:174-175)
Someone asked me what is the knowing I speak of and how does the love I mention feel. I said if you don't know, what can I say? And if you do know, what can I say? The taste of knowing love has no explanation, and no account of it will ever give anyone that taste.
(Maarif 1:143 )
When I was sick, it came to me that there are two approaches to work. One is bold and quick, fearless in action. The other is worried and constricted with concern about things that could possibly go wrong. If action flows from anxiety, the outcome is murky and disturbed. But if action moves with a swift joy and courage, the world begins to resolve its difficulties and grow whole.
(Maarif 2:24)
from The Drowned Book
Ecstatic and Earthly Reflection of Bahauddin, The Father of Rumi
by Coleman Barks and John Moyne
Alif Lam Mim.
If God says We, meaning I AM, then any pronoun I use becomes superfluous. Designations fall like petals. Wisdom comes, and I feel such pleasure flooding me that I fear losing my sense of it. I tell myself: Inquire into how lover, beloved and the other ways of loving exist as one thing.
As it is with God's qualities and human beings, so there is a unity with love. In the heart there is no room for differentiation, only oneness and the Beloved. I would give away books, lands, my virtues and reputation, everyone, for one hour inside that Presence.
(Maarif 1:172-173)
This is how God talked with Muhammad, saying, 'We have given you victory' (Quran, 48:1), There was companionship between them, 'We have sent down to you a book' (4:105), and 'Have we not expanded your heart' (94:1)?
They spoke together like friends. Has anyone else had such an experience? And since the divine mystery is part of everything and everyone, must there not be such nearness inside everyone?
An answer came to this wondering argument. There are ways unique to each soul. One gets handed pain, another love, another lust. One must go through terrible punishment, another extensive comforting.
But the way of God with prophets is on another level, where miracles and grace and visions of the unseen world come. Aspire to that plane. Otherwise you will continue to speak to God about heat and cold, food, livelihood, sleep, walking, and the various human theories about mystery.
My prayer is this: When I am alone with You, let me feel pleasure of a surrendered love. Give me the oneness as I sit by myself beyond the satisfaction of any desire.
(Maarif 1:174-175)
Someone asked me what is the knowing I speak of and how does the love I mention feel. I said if you don't know, what can I say? And if you do know, what can I say? The taste of knowing love has no explanation, and no account of it will ever give anyone that taste.
(Maarif 1:143 )
When I was sick, it came to me that there are two approaches to work. One is bold and quick, fearless in action. The other is worried and constricted with concern about things that could possibly go wrong. If action flows from anxiety, the outcome is murky and disturbed. But if action moves with a swift joy and courage, the world begins to resolve its difficulties and grow whole.
(Maarif 2:24)
from The Drowned Book
Ecstatic and Earthly Reflection of Bahauddin, The Father of Rumi
by Coleman Barks and John Moyne
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Let the Accusations Fly...
So, I will just admit to one of my truths then, especially since it seems the smoothest recourse.
Truth is,
I don't know what "Love" is. (Let alone "True Love.")
Which is why I am examining it through time and space,
contact and community, and
the lens and virtual media.
I don't know what it is, how it tastes or what it feels like, so I look to you for help.
I guess I am simply courageous enough to ask the question: "What is Love?"
and to investigate its myriad of possible answers.
I also do so as an offering!
Not Because I am special, unique or alone in my experiences. But because there are others out here who share with me how my words reach them, how these typed ideas touch them - deeply.
So, I share because our journey is collective and universal.
I share for our greater good.
If it is received as "taking," so be it - I know my intentions.
Which are pure -
I want others to heal and recognize that suffering is an option that they no longer have to choose.
One thing I do know, though, is that Shakti has been teaching me a great deal about soft, supple support - what that looks and feels like - & I am eternally grateful to her.
As for the rest, I am simply just this spirit having a human experience.
I allow my Self my myriad of mistakes today because, once upon a time, my fear rendered me inert.
Once upon a time - not too long ago - my soul sat parched and withered and I didn't know how to feed it.
Truth is, I don't know if I've quite learned how to do so, but I do know that feeling committed to learning how to LOVE Me - being dedicated to my Tao - is a step in the right direction.
And, I guess it's all I would hope for you, as well.
IN PEACE.
Truth is,
I don't know what "Love" is. (Let alone "True Love.")
Which is why I am examining it through time and space,
contact and community, and
the lens and virtual media.
I don't know what it is, how it tastes or what it feels like, so I look to you for help.
I guess I am simply courageous enough to ask the question: "What is Love?"
and to investigate its myriad of possible answers.
I also do so as an offering!
Not Because I am special, unique or alone in my experiences. But because there are others out here who share with me how my words reach them, how these typed ideas touch them - deeply.
So, I share because our journey is collective and universal.
I share for our greater good.
If it is received as "taking," so be it - I know my intentions.
Which are pure -
I want others to heal and recognize that suffering is an option that they no longer have to choose.
One thing I do know, though, is that Shakti has been teaching me a great deal about soft, supple support - what that looks and feels like - & I am eternally grateful to her.
As for the rest, I am simply just this spirit having a human experience.
I allow my Self my myriad of mistakes today because, once upon a time, my fear rendered me inert.
Once upon a time - not too long ago - my soul sat parched and withered and I didn't know how to feed it.
Truth is, I don't know if I've quite learned how to do so, but I do know that feeling committed to learning how to LOVE Me - being dedicated to my Tao - is a step in the right direction.
And, I guess it's all I would hope for you, as well.
IN PEACE.
On Primal Fluidity & A Few Notes on "SEX"
WE ALL HAVE IT.
Sex, that is.
As in
a gender,
a body that can, perhaps, fulfill and meet someone else's desires, needs or wants.
A thing to be had - an object to be craved.
This is simple.
For we are born with it - like the air we breathe and the water we drink.
Thus, sex is always present. We cannot remove our sexuality from any given moment
just as we cannot suppress the next breath that our lungs take. We cannot pretend
that sex is absent, especially when doing so may render it the position of a pink elephant - you know the most obnoxiously obvious person in a given room?
I share this not because I am some wise dance philosopher but, rather, because - when I really learned this, when this notion of "Oh, it's not personal" sank deeper into my being - I felt liberation. You see, for so long I had personalized Sex. As a young, American woman raised on primetime and MTV, I too erroneously believed that how I moved through the world, how I presented myself and the amount of attention I received based upon my external appearance (which can represent my sex) was of high value. An economic value sex has - yes, this cannot be denied. Saunter through Amsterdam's Red Light District where thigh-high tights stretch across Dutch women, seated in their boudoirs behind a rectangular window, and eyeball the bevy of jetblack-haired, Thai babes behind a glass windowpane at a brothel in Bangkok, and you too will hear the ancestral call for feeding our primal sexuality beckoning back through time.
I am not advocating for an either/or philosophy here, nor am I implying any value judgments. Sex is fucking great! As long as there are people in this world, there will be prostitution - sex for sale. It is the easiest commodity to come by, especially in a market-driven economy, where the basic tenet - "In order to eat, you have to work" keeps a surplus of food under lock and key and people scrambling to make ends meet. Rather, I am sharing my observations of what happened in my experiences of approaching life from a more two-dimensional viewpoint - an approach that holds more sacred the reflections in the mirror, and the images on the screen than the multi-dimensional and multi-sensory nature of life on this planet. I now share what happened when I succumbed to believing that my power was discovered in the gaze of another.
I BECAME A STONE,
like Stoic Sculpture in Motion.
Hardly moving to the fullest of my extension,
I continually refrained from twisting too far to the right or left
(so as not to show an unflattering side).
I suppressed my needs to sneeze, to laugh loudly, to make too much sound
especially if it would draw attention to a moment when I, perhaps, was not in "control."
I withheld my desire to be big, bold, loud, exclamatory. The innocent abandon
of my youth was squelched by an absolute, irrational desire to be viewed as "desirable."
Rigid, stone-like, I even began to withhold my Love. I took and took and took its
sweet offerings - the drawings and flowers, the rings and candy, the ephemeral moments
of notes passed and glances shared - but I refused to offer it myself.
Even though, Love had always been what my little girl's heart of heart truly craves.
Then, when I realized what had happened - how I had sacrificed my personality, my humor,
my child-like wonder and pure awe for life - I became angry.
Mad at society and men for reducing me into a mere object - a vision to be seen but not heard. And, I was mad at myself for falling for it. So, I crawled up into my rebellion as I added more layers of hard defenses to my already tough exterior. I continued to still push others away, yet all I have ever really wanted is Love - softness, affection, touch, contact. So, now, here I am, many years later, and I have rediscovered SEXiness on my terms.
I've found it in my relationship to and with the Earthgroundfloor below my feet. When I am moving in rhythm and in time with this liquid planet as it sways and undulates under my primal form, I stake my rightful claim. I declare my just space on this shared journey of Ours, as we float along this flowing river of time together. I take my place - without guilt, and without remorse. Without owing anyone anything. This is uncompromised, exquisitely selfish space that I take because I am HUMAN.
Join ME! And, turn your dancing on it's side! (Which, if this were solely about SEX, would be GREAT Practice! hint. hint. ; )
for my Primal Fluidity Dance Classes
every Wednesday Nights at the Hive
8-9pm
then stay and "Just Dance" till 11pm
Sex, that is.
As in
a gender,
a body that can, perhaps, fulfill and meet someone else's desires, needs or wants.
A thing to be had - an object to be craved.
This is simple.
For we are born with it - like the air we breathe and the water we drink.
Thus, sex is always present. We cannot remove our sexuality from any given moment
just as we cannot suppress the next breath that our lungs take. We cannot pretend
that sex is absent, especially when doing so may render it the position of a pink elephant - you know the most obnoxiously obvious person in a given room?
I share this not because I am some wise dance philosopher but, rather, because - when I really learned this, when this notion of "Oh, it's not personal" sank deeper into my being - I felt liberation. You see, for so long I had personalized Sex. As a young, American woman raised on primetime and MTV, I too erroneously believed that how I moved through the world, how I presented myself and the amount of attention I received based upon my external appearance (which can represent my sex) was of high value. An economic value sex has - yes, this cannot be denied. Saunter through Amsterdam's Red Light District where thigh-high tights stretch across Dutch women, seated in their boudoirs behind a rectangular window, and eyeball the bevy of jetblack-haired, Thai babes behind a glass windowpane at a brothel in Bangkok, and you too will hear the ancestral call for feeding our primal sexuality beckoning back through time.
I am not advocating for an either/or philosophy here, nor am I implying any value judgments. Sex is fucking great! As long as there are people in this world, there will be prostitution - sex for sale. It is the easiest commodity to come by, especially in a market-driven economy, where the basic tenet - "In order to eat, you have to work" keeps a surplus of food under lock and key and people scrambling to make ends meet. Rather, I am sharing my observations of what happened in my experiences of approaching life from a more two-dimensional viewpoint - an approach that holds more sacred the reflections in the mirror, and the images on the screen than the multi-dimensional and multi-sensory nature of life on this planet. I now share what happened when I succumbed to believing that my power was discovered in the gaze of another.
I BECAME A STONE,
like Stoic Sculpture in Motion.
Hardly moving to the fullest of my extension,
I continually refrained from twisting too far to the right or left
(so as not to show an unflattering side).
I suppressed my needs to sneeze, to laugh loudly, to make too much sound
especially if it would draw attention to a moment when I, perhaps, was not in "control."
I withheld my desire to be big, bold, loud, exclamatory. The innocent abandon
of my youth was squelched by an absolute, irrational desire to be viewed as "desirable."
Rigid, stone-like, I even began to withhold my Love. I took and took and took its
sweet offerings - the drawings and flowers, the rings and candy, the ephemeral moments
of notes passed and glances shared - but I refused to offer it myself.
Even though, Love had always been what my little girl's heart of heart truly craves.
Then, when I realized what had happened - how I had sacrificed my personality, my humor,
my child-like wonder and pure awe for life - I became angry.
Mad at society and men for reducing me into a mere object - a vision to be seen but not heard. And, I was mad at myself for falling for it. So, I crawled up into my rebellion as I added more layers of hard defenses to my already tough exterior. I continued to still push others away, yet all I have ever really wanted is Love - softness, affection, touch, contact. So, now, here I am, many years later, and I have rediscovered SEXiness on my terms.
I've found it in my relationship to and with the Earthgroundfloor below my feet. When I am moving in rhythm and in time with this liquid planet as it sways and undulates under my primal form, I stake my rightful claim. I declare my just space on this shared journey of Ours, as we float along this flowing river of time together. I take my place - without guilt, and without remorse. Without owing anyone anything. This is uncompromised, exquisitely selfish space that I take because I am HUMAN.
Join ME! And, turn your dancing on it's side! (Which, if this were solely about SEX, would be GREAT Practice! hint. hint. ; )
for my Primal Fluidity Dance Classes
every Wednesday Nights at the Hive
8-9pm
then stay and "Just Dance" till 11pm
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Rumi~Nations Upon LOVE
 |
| "Celebrate Love, Volume 2" @ the Prosperity Hive |
How do we explore and investigate such a seemingly benign notion as love in our lives? Love just IS, right? Does it really, then, need "work," i.e. in being espoused and ruminated upon?
I've come to realize that, like time, Love is also a flowing river, with no beginning and no-end point. It is only and ever this. A moment, n-o-w. Therefore, LOVE is Always Available to US. We simply have to allow ourselves to give and receive it freely. Love is Reciprocity.
However, it is only when we truly allow ourselves to OFFER LOVE that we begin to receive the Love that we each deeply desire in exchange.
How and when do YOU offer your love?
Do you offer your love?
As brother Michael Franti sings,
"So many times, people turn their backs to you
'cause they don't wanna see, what's inside of you
'cause lookin' inside of you
they might realize there's something inside of them
they might not wanna find
But it ain't about who ya love, (who ya love)
see it's all about do ya love, (do ya love)."
'cause they don't wanna see, what's inside of you
'cause lookin' inside of you
they might realize there's something inside of them
they might not wanna find
But it ain't about who ya love, (who ya love)
see it's all about do ya love, (do ya love)."
So, I will ask YOU again,
DO YOU LOVE?
I don't mean, "Do you want?" And, I am not asking if you give for reciprocation.
I am asking, "What do YOU offer?"
Because LOVE IS SERVICE.
HOW DO YOU SERVE?
Of course, you must be able to serve yourself first in order to serve others.
How do you LOVE YOU?
"Well well well well
sunshine and loveliness
ain't nobody feeling no ugliness tonight
ain't it fine like sippin' sweet Georgie wine
see I'm just chillin' with these friends of mine
I ain't tryin' a bother you
so why ya gotta bother me
what goes on in your bedroom ain't no mess to me
you just say your God don't like my God
'cause you don't like my friends
but your friends tryin' to kill a man
and I don't understand
'cause it ain't about who ya love, (who ya love)
see it's all about do ya love, (do ya love)."
sunshine and loveliness
ain't nobody feeling no ugliness tonight
ain't it fine like sippin' sweet Georgie wine
see I'm just chillin' with these friends of mine
I ain't tryin' a bother you
so why ya gotta bother me
what goes on in your bedroom ain't no mess to me
you just say your God don't like my God
'cause you don't like my friends
but your friends tryin' to kill a man
and I don't understand
'cause it ain't about who ya love, (who ya love)
see it's all about do ya love, (do ya love)."
As an interdisciplinary artist, how do I create and capture
the pure moments of improvisational magic that LOVE both IS and inspires?
I don't know, so I try:
"Ooh one two three
say yeah say yeah feels so good to me
ooh! And ya one two three, say yeah, say yeah
feels so good
I say do it at home or on the street
with a drag queen don't matter to me
it ain't about sex or having degrees
your pedigree don't matter to me
about who ya love (who ya love)
see it's all about do ya love (do ya love)."
say yeah say yeah feels so good to me
ooh! And ya one two three, say yeah, say yeah
feels so good
I say do it at home or on the street
with a drag queen don't matter to me
it ain't about sex or having degrees
your pedigree don't matter to me
about who ya love (who ya love)
see it's all about do ya love (do ya love)."
I do. I do. I do.
Finally, after all these years.
After all the fear, pain and sorrow,
I LOVE.
And, I love you.
Especially the more I continue to deepen into How to LOVE Me.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
(i needed to cry this morning, and this finally brought me to my kneees..)
(THANK GODDESS for YOU, Katherine Avery!~
We met in person, once. & thanks to FB, we stay in contact!
Also, thanks for not "taking it personal, Kat. ; ) " )
Imagine A Woman In Love With Herself
“Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.
Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past’s influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body’s rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Imagine a woman who embraces her sexuality as her own.
A woman who delights in pleasuring herself.
Who experiences her erotic sensations without shame or guilt.
Imagine a woman who honors the body of Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who has access to the full range of human emotion.
A woman who expresses her feelings clearly and directly.
Who allows them to pass through her as gracefully as a breath.
Imagine a woman who tells the truth.
A woman who trusts her experience of the world and expresses it.
Who refuses to defer to the thoughts, perceptions, and responses of others.
Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses.
A woman who produces original creations.
Who refuses to color inside someone else’s lines.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman who refuses to surrender to gods, gurus, and higher powers.
A woman who has descended into her own inner life.
Who asserts her will in harmony with its impulses and instincts.
Imagine a woman who is interested in her own life.
A woman who embraces her life as teacher, healer, and challenger.
Who is grateful for the ordinary moments of beauty and grace.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who trusts her inner sense of what is right for her.
Who refuses to twist her life out of shape to meet the expectations of others.
Imagine a woman who participates in her own life.
A woman who meets each challenge with creativity.
Who takes action on her own behalf with clarity and strength.
Imagine a woman who has crafted a fully formed solitude.
A woman who is available to herself.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to respect her solitude.
Imagine a woman who refuses to diminish her life so others will feel better.
A woman who brings the fullness of her years, experience, and wisdom into each relationship.
Who expects others to be challenged and blessed by her presence in their lives.
Imagine a woman who assumes equality in her relationships.
A woman who no longer believes she is inferior to men and in need of their salvation.
Who has taken her rightful place beside them in the human community.
Imagine a woman who refuses to use her precious life-energy managing crisis and conflict.
A woman whose relationships deepen in satisfaction and contentment without depleting her.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the necessary skills to navigate through the challenges of life.
Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.
Imagine a woman who has relinquished the desire for intellectual safety and approval.
A woman who makes a powerful statement with every word she speaks, every action she takes.
Who asserts to herself the right to reorder the world.
Imagine a woman who has grown in knowledge and love of herself.
A woman who has vowed faithfulness to her own life and capacities.
Who remains loyal to herself. Regardless.
Imagine yourself as this woman.”
Patricia Lynn ReillySee More
By: Laurie Burkhead
We met in person, once. & thanks to FB, we stay in contact!
Also, thanks for not "taking it personal, Kat. ; ) " )
Imagine A Woman In Love With Herself
“Imagine a woman who believes it is right and good she is woman.
A woman who honors her experience and tells her stories.
Who refuses to carry the sins of others within her body and life.
Imagine a woman who has acknowledged the past’s influence on the present.
A woman who has walked through her past.
Who has healed into the present.
Imagine a woman in love with her own body.
A woman who believes her body is enough, just as it is.
Who celebrates her body’s rhythms and cycles as an exquisite resource.
Imagine a woman who embraces her sexuality as her own.
A woman who delights in pleasuring herself.
Who experiences her erotic sensations without shame or guilt.
Imagine a woman who honors the body of Goddess in her changing body.
A woman who celebrates the accumulation of her years and her wisdom.
Who refuses to use her precious life-energy disguising the changes in her body and life.
Imagine a woman who has access to the full range of human emotion.
A woman who expresses her feelings clearly and directly.
Who allows them to pass through her as gracefully as a breath.
Imagine a woman who tells the truth.
A woman who trusts her experience of the world and expresses it.
Who refuses to defer to the thoughts, perceptions, and responses of others.
Imagine a woman who follows her creative impulses.
A woman who produces original creations.
Who refuses to color inside someone else’s lines.
Imagine a woman who names her own gods.
A woman who imagines the divine in her image and likeness.
Who designs a personal spirituality to inform her daily life.
Imagine a woman who refuses to surrender to gods, gurus, and higher powers.
A woman who has descended into her own inner life.
Who asserts her will in harmony with its impulses and instincts.
Imagine a woman who is interested in her own life.
A woman who embraces her life as teacher, healer, and challenger.
Who is grateful for the ordinary moments of beauty and grace.
Imagine a woman who authors her own life.
A woman who trusts her inner sense of what is right for her.
Who refuses to twist her life out of shape to meet the expectations of others.
Imagine a woman who participates in her own life.
A woman who meets each challenge with creativity.
Who takes action on her own behalf with clarity and strength.
Imagine a woman who has crafted a fully formed solitude.
A woman who is available to herself.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the capacity to respect her solitude.
Imagine a woman who refuses to diminish her life so others will feel better.
A woman who brings the fullness of her years, experience, and wisdom into each relationship.
Who expects others to be challenged and blessed by her presence in their lives.
Imagine a woman who assumes equality in her relationships.
A woman who no longer believes she is inferior to men and in need of their salvation.
Who has taken her rightful place beside them in the human community.
Imagine a woman who refuses to use her precious life-energy managing crisis and conflict.
A woman whose relationships deepen in satisfaction and contentment without depleting her.
Who chooses friends and lovers with the necessary skills to navigate through the challenges of life.
Imagine a woman who values the women in her life.
A woman who sits in circles of women.
Who is reminded of the truth about herself when she forgets.
Imagine a woman who has relinquished the desire for intellectual safety and approval.
A woman who makes a powerful statement with every word she speaks, every action she takes.
Who asserts to herself the right to reorder the world.
Imagine a woman who has grown in knowledge and love of herself.
A woman who has vowed faithfulness to her own life and capacities.
Who remains loyal to herself. Regardless.
Imagine yourself as this woman.”
Patricia Lynn ReillySee More
By: Laurie Burkhead
It's Not Personal
Really.
Sometimes, it isn't even about"Me."
(You know, the person you think you're reading about.)
Okay, sometimes it may be about you - just a smidge.
Maybe, there was some interaction, a moment, a word,
shared between us and it somehow worked its way onto this screen.
Okay,
yes,
true.
However, even then, it isn't really about "You."
It's about "US."
And this moment now.
Our tale is universal.
Our suffering is relative.
Our collective hope is shared.
So, when I see you and I forget, that we've met, or your name, or whatever...
it's not personal. Listen. I have this friend, Mary. I met her at an intimate potluck and
have run into her at many farm-to-table events across the county over the course of the past
year and a half. AND, every time I see her, I have to remind her of my name.
It's not personal.
I love her!
And, who cares?
So, I throw my arms around her, chirp "Cara" into her ears and love her some more - exactly as we are, in that moment then. Because its ALL we have (this now) and if I am not trying on this radical version of LOVE in as moments as are humanly possible n-o-w then I won't be reveling in it in some elusive future. LOVE IS NOW.
Nonetheless, I AM SORRY for all of my little actions that have somehow
conveyed to you that I do not respect you or your time. I am sorry if I have punctured you too deeply with my sword, if I've come across a vein and drained you of some of your life force in the process.
I am sorry for my flakiness, - for my flighty, airy ways that carry me on a breeze when
whim calls - especially if this "bad" habit of mine reflects a negative self-image for you.
I love you.
I honor you.
And, sometimes, I do that best by flying away.
Sometimes, ahhh-okay...sometimes, it is the pure pattern of bullshit that I acquired in order to
survive in a home where I did not feel safe - not physically, or emotionally. Thus, when I feel
unsafe, I flee. It's habit and as Sam would say, "It's not God." C'est la vie.
I am human.
Only and ever this.
And, this is all we are.
Just Human.
Be-ings Experiencing a Journey.
LIVE YOUR STORY
N-O-W.
LOVE IS OUR STORY
N-O-W.
Sometimes, it isn't even about"Me."
(You know, the person you think you're reading about.)
Okay, sometimes it may be about you - just a smidge.
Maybe, there was some interaction, a moment, a word,
shared between us and it somehow worked its way onto this screen.
Okay,
yes,
true.
However, even then, it isn't really about "You."
It's about "US."
And this moment now.
Our tale is universal.
Our suffering is relative.
Our collective hope is shared.
So, when I see you and I forget, that we've met, or your name, or whatever...
it's not personal. Listen. I have this friend, Mary. I met her at an intimate potluck and
have run into her at many farm-to-table events across the county over the course of the past
year and a half. AND, every time I see her, I have to remind her of my name.
It's not personal.
I love her!
And, who cares?
So, I throw my arms around her, chirp "Cara" into her ears and love her some more - exactly as we are, in that moment then. Because its ALL we have (this now) and if I am not trying on this radical version of LOVE in as moments as are humanly possible n-o-w then I won't be reveling in it in some elusive future. LOVE IS NOW.
Nonetheless, I AM SORRY for all of my little actions that have somehow
conveyed to you that I do not respect you or your time. I am sorry if I have punctured you too deeply with my sword, if I've come across a vein and drained you of some of your life force in the process.
I am sorry for my flakiness, - for my flighty, airy ways that carry me on a breeze when
whim calls - especially if this "bad" habit of mine reflects a negative self-image for you.
I love you.
I honor you.
And, sometimes, I do that best by flying away.
Sometimes, ahhh-okay...sometimes, it is the pure pattern of bullshit that I acquired in order to
survive in a home where I did not feel safe - not physically, or emotionally. Thus, when I feel
unsafe, I flee. It's habit and as Sam would say, "It's not God." C'est la vie.
I am human.
Only and ever this.
And, this is all we are.
Just Human.
Be-ings Experiencing a Journey.
LIVE YOUR STORY
N-O-W.
LOVE IS OUR STORY
N-O-W.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
On the LOVE of Driving
Again, because I want to clarify.
In fact, I like being clear.
Like crystal.
As I tell Shakti, "Just tell me -
if you don't like me, or I'm a bitch, or whatever-
I can work with that.
We can move forward from here.
However, if you refrain from sharing with me your honest thoughts and/or feelings,
then there isn't really anywhere we can grow, together."
Certainly not up, nor forward.
Political correctness leads to morbid stagnancy.
And, a lack of transparency eventually becomes dishonesty.
So, I want to level with you and play it straight.
I LOVE TO DRIVE!
Cars.
Really, really fast.
I especially love getting behind the driver's seat of Shakti's Mini Cooper.
I relish zipping that small vehicle around these city streets, as well as in and out of traffic, like a
bat out of hell. I adore dropping that baby onto the 5 freeway, opening up the motor and making my way over and into the fast lane. I savor listening to a song flow out of the speaker box, (lately, I gotta admit, it's Pink's Raise Your Glass that has got me buzzing. Cheesy? Maybe. But, c'mon, with lyrics like, "So, raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways, all my underdogs, we will never be, never be anything but loud and nitty gritty dirty little freaks..."), while feeling the beat fill my body, the air rushing in through an open, driver's side window and my voice calling out for simultaneously everyone and no one to hear.
I push the pedal to the medal and comfortably cruise at 90 (though, not for very long, because - truth be told - I don't want a ticket.)
In fact, I crave speed.
The adrenaline rush is primal.
The feeling of operating a machine, of "controlling" its mechanisms and propelling myself forward through space in ways that I can not do alone is a human experience that little can compare to.
One of my secret fantasies has always been to take to the Indy 500 racetrack and enjoy a quick spin in an actual racecar. Until then, I pretend on the speedways of local entertainment centers. (Again, truth be told, it's been a number of years since I have actually made a visit to such a place, but I know you feel me.)
So, I'm writing all this because I don't want to portray myself as some 'sustainability snob' who thinks of technology as "evil." (Obviously, I do not.) I write this because I honestly believe that we can strike a balance between the technologies we are actively creating and this natural world that we were born into in our everyday lives. In my heart of hearts, I know that we can put our heads together and come up with creative ways to transport ourselves.
I, personally, live a certain model because it is not sustainable for each of us to have a car. Also, because I discovered long ago that I feel healthiest and the most vibrant when I am using my own body more, and a car less. When I am walking and riding a bike. When I spend time outside, breathing in the fresh air and accelerating my heartbeat. When I talk to others I pass-by, when I force myself to meet their eyes, to smile and say "Hello." (Or not. Sometimes, I don't even have the energy to do this. Or, I neglect to do it - which doesn't feel good.) It's all so simple and necessary and, yet, it's so easy to forget.
So, this morning, I envisioned a thriving, buzzing city center with cars parked around its perimeter and an effective and fast-moving public transportation system that ushers interacting people in between their cars, their workplaces, and their day-to-day. I envisioned these ambling city streets filled with people walking and riding, to and fro, and with cars noticeably absent. I saw all of the outlying suburbs planned similarly while the people relied on a high-speed thoroughfare for their daily commutes. I imagined us borrowing and sharing vehicles with each other while riding bikes and walking to the car pick-up and drop-off locations. For those who live more remotely, I saw us redesigning a new bus system.
Don't you see?
It is this simple.
All we have to do is come together.
And, commit.
Commit to a shared vision and to a system that feeds the highest good of all, including our beloved planet.
For n-o-w depends on it.
In fact, I like being clear.
Like crystal.
As I tell Shakti, "Just tell me -
if you don't like me, or I'm a bitch, or whatever-
I can work with that.
We can move forward from here.
However, if you refrain from sharing with me your honest thoughts and/or feelings,
then there isn't really anywhere we can grow, together."
Certainly not up, nor forward.
Political correctness leads to morbid stagnancy.
And, a lack of transparency eventually becomes dishonesty.
So, I want to level with you and play it straight.
I LOVE TO DRIVE!
Cars.
Really, really fast.
I especially love getting behind the driver's seat of Shakti's Mini Cooper.
I relish zipping that small vehicle around these city streets, as well as in and out of traffic, like a
bat out of hell. I adore dropping that baby onto the 5 freeway, opening up the motor and making my way over and into the fast lane. I savor listening to a song flow out of the speaker box, (lately, I gotta admit, it's Pink's Raise Your Glass that has got me buzzing. Cheesy? Maybe. But, c'mon, with lyrics like, "So, raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways, all my underdogs, we will never be, never be anything but loud and nitty gritty dirty little freaks..."), while feeling the beat fill my body, the air rushing in through an open, driver's side window and my voice calling out for simultaneously everyone and no one to hear.
I push the pedal to the medal and comfortably cruise at 90 (though, not for very long, because - truth be told - I don't want a ticket.)
In fact, I crave speed.
The adrenaline rush is primal.
The feeling of operating a machine, of "controlling" its mechanisms and propelling myself forward through space in ways that I can not do alone is a human experience that little can compare to.
One of my secret fantasies has always been to take to the Indy 500 racetrack and enjoy a quick spin in an actual racecar. Until then, I pretend on the speedways of local entertainment centers. (Again, truth be told, it's been a number of years since I have actually made a visit to such a place, but I know you feel me.)
So, I'm writing all this because I don't want to portray myself as some 'sustainability snob' who thinks of technology as "evil." (Obviously, I do not.) I write this because I honestly believe that we can strike a balance between the technologies we are actively creating and this natural world that we were born into in our everyday lives. In my heart of hearts, I know that we can put our heads together and come up with creative ways to transport ourselves.
I, personally, live a certain model because it is not sustainable for each of us to have a car. Also, because I discovered long ago that I feel healthiest and the most vibrant when I am using my own body more, and a car less. When I am walking and riding a bike. When I spend time outside, breathing in the fresh air and accelerating my heartbeat. When I talk to others I pass-by, when I force myself to meet their eyes, to smile and say "Hello." (Or not. Sometimes, I don't even have the energy to do this. Or, I neglect to do it - which doesn't feel good.) It's all so simple and necessary and, yet, it's so easy to forget.
So, this morning, I envisioned a thriving, buzzing city center with cars parked around its perimeter and an effective and fast-moving public transportation system that ushers interacting people in between their cars, their workplaces, and their day-to-day. I envisioned these ambling city streets filled with people walking and riding, to and fro, and with cars noticeably absent. I saw all of the outlying suburbs planned similarly while the people relied on a high-speed thoroughfare for their daily commutes. I imagined us borrowing and sharing vehicles with each other while riding bikes and walking to the car pick-up and drop-off locations. For those who live more remotely, I saw us redesigning a new bus system.
Don't you see?
It is this simple.
All we have to do is come together.
And, commit.
Commit to a shared vision and to a system that feeds the highest good of all, including our beloved planet.
For n-o-w depends on it.
For Clarification Purposes
"Don't "Fall in Love,"" she wrote to her friend, who was espousing upon such a notion in her early morning reverie. "Because you don't know where you are falling to. Rather, "GROW IN LOVE." This is what the Universe will respond to. Make sure that you and your partner actually do GROW together."
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Kundalini Rising
3:30am
And the internal alarm clock goes off.
"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,"
my BodyMind comes to.
There is no escaping this deafening call.
There is no longer an ability to turn over, refuse to listen
and sleep in.
"N-o-w is the time," comes an ancient call.
It has been said that the darkest hour is just before the dawn.
"The dark?" he asks.
"Yes," I said.
"Last summer, I realized that my spirit is a garden. If I want to grow all
of my seed dreams - for love, work, transformation and dance - then I need to be
tending to the dark, nutritious matter within. I must actively churn it, feed it and care
for it so that, come spring, these now rooted plants can begin to break through the soil, unfurl,
flourish, and grow."
"That's an amazing metaphor," he says.
Yes, indeed.
Like a woman's womb, the pitch black abyss is a conduit from where life springs. It is in these twilight hours, just before sunrise, when our "fertility" - our individual ability to bear fruit and to manifest in this life, n-o-w, all that we envision - is the ripest.
So, I sat in quiet, stillness (kinda). Then, I retreated back into my dark nest where I sat facing my future. I called in the highest frequency of divine energy by chanting:
"Ong Na Mo Guru Dev Na Mo."
("I Call on the Infinite Creative Consciousness, I Call on Divine Wisdom.")
108 times.
"This Kundalini Yoga chant protects and connects us with our higher self. Properly done it stimulates the pituitary and pineal glands and automatically tunes us in to higher consciousness."
(from Gururattan Kaur Khalsa's Your Life is in Your Chakras)
The number 108 actually comes from the Hindu and Buddhist Japa Mala prayer beads. "Amid the more esoteric circles of Eastern philosophers, the number 108 is held to be most auspicious, a perfect three-digit multiple of three, its components adding up to nine, which is three threes. And three, of course, is the number representing supreme balance, as anyone who ever studied either the Holy Trinity or a simple bar stool can plainly see." (from Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love)
What do you want to grow?
It's a simple enough question.
May we all have the courage to listen to how our heart responds.
We might even be surprised...
And the internal alarm clock goes off.
"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,"
my BodyMind comes to.
There is no escaping this deafening call.
There is no longer an ability to turn over, refuse to listen
and sleep in.
"N-o-w is the time," comes an ancient call.
It has been said that the darkest hour is just before the dawn.
"The dark?" he asks.
"Yes," I said.
"Last summer, I realized that my spirit is a garden. If I want to grow all
of my seed dreams - for love, work, transformation and dance - then I need to be
tending to the dark, nutritious matter within. I must actively churn it, feed it and care
for it so that, come spring, these now rooted plants can begin to break through the soil, unfurl,
flourish, and grow."
"That's an amazing metaphor," he says.
Yes, indeed.
Like a woman's womb, the pitch black abyss is a conduit from where life springs. It is in these twilight hours, just before sunrise, when our "fertility" - our individual ability to bear fruit and to manifest in this life, n-o-w, all that we envision - is the ripest.
So, I sat in quiet, stillness (kinda). Then, I retreated back into my dark nest where I sat facing my future. I called in the highest frequency of divine energy by chanting:
"Ong Na Mo Guru Dev Na Mo."
("I Call on the Infinite Creative Consciousness, I Call on Divine Wisdom.")
108 times.
"This Kundalini Yoga chant protects and connects us with our higher self. Properly done it stimulates the pituitary and pineal glands and automatically tunes us in to higher consciousness."
(from Gururattan Kaur Khalsa's Your Life is in Your Chakras)
The number 108 actually comes from the Hindu and Buddhist Japa Mala prayer beads. "Amid the more esoteric circles of Eastern philosophers, the number 108 is held to be most auspicious, a perfect three-digit multiple of three, its components adding up to nine, which is three threes. And three, of course, is the number representing supreme balance, as anyone who ever studied either the Holy Trinity or a simple bar stool can plainly see." (from Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat Pray Love)
What do you want to grow?
It's a simple enough question.
May we all have the courage to listen to how our heart responds.
We might even be surprised...
Monday, February 7, 2011
I Reserve the Right to Change My Mind...
Perhaps, this language of mine - this espousing upon an agreed upon middle ground
where a vibrant utopia is awaiting our discovery - has been deceptive.
Perhaps, I've been trying too idealistically to meet at some elusive meeting place where an
agreed-upon compromise - as to how to simply talk, connect and re-member how to be human together, again - has been met.
Because, I'm done with perpetuating ideas of love and compassion
as unconditional acceptance.
I'm done with blindly pulling the wool over my own eyes.
I'm done pretending that your not showing up in the highest of your expression doesn't hurt.
Because it does.
It cuts deeply when you refuse to step out from the dim lights of the bar. It pains me when you choose to remain in your stagnant repose, like a scarecrow on his post. It kills me, over and over again, when you keep choosing to knock your thick head against the same closed door while hoping for a different result. So, instead, I've finally decided to demand more of you.
Not because I do not empathize with your suffering. Of course I do - of course I have been there as well. For you are me...
I have simply realized that I wish those who had been closest to me in my life would have kicked me harder in the butt when I was so enmeshed in my own pain that I couldn't see straight. When I was so consumed by my own fear, that I gave away too many precious moments, hours, days and years.
So, I'm done trying to meet you, wherever you are
because I've finally decided that there are certain places where I can simply no longer tread.
I am discovering that the more I fill my own soul cup up, the more effort is required when I am in situations and environments that feel draining of my life force and vital energy.
Because this time n-o-w demands that we each,
that all of us, show up in the fullest of our humanity.
So, I hope you will see me and that you will be inspired to take to a dance floor, wildly, as we fling off all of our hopes and our dreams for our lost yesterdays and our coming tomorrows.
I hope you'll see me and want to talk about what moves you, about what your heart says and how you are going to serve others by offering your talents to the world. Because we need you.
We need you in the fullest of your potential. We need you at the highest of your vibration.
And, I need you. I need you to show up - fully - because when you do, you make me look good. And, as you can tell, I am quite the narcissist.
So, this is my new version of compassion and love for these radical 21st century times.
And, I like to think - in my heart of hearts - that this is compassion at its finest.
I LOVE YOU, damn it. Where are You? Your absence - your wandering mind, your disconnected body and your parched soul - is like a knife wound to my being. Your refusal stabs and punctures me.
Don't You See?
Let Go Of Your Fears..
N-O-W.
where a vibrant utopia is awaiting our discovery - has been deceptive.
Perhaps, I've been trying too idealistically to meet at some elusive meeting place where an
agreed-upon compromise - as to how to simply talk, connect and re-member how to be human together, again - has been met.
Because, I'm done with perpetuating ideas of love and compassion
as unconditional acceptance.
I'm done with blindly pulling the wool over my own eyes.
I'm done pretending that your not showing up in the highest of your expression doesn't hurt.
Because it does.
It cuts deeply when you refuse to step out from the dim lights of the bar. It pains me when you choose to remain in your stagnant repose, like a scarecrow on his post. It kills me, over and over again, when you keep choosing to knock your thick head against the same closed door while hoping for a different result. So, instead, I've finally decided to demand more of you.
Not because I do not empathize with your suffering. Of course I do - of course I have been there as well. For you are me...
I have simply realized that I wish those who had been closest to me in my life would have kicked me harder in the butt when I was so enmeshed in my own pain that I couldn't see straight. When I was so consumed by my own fear, that I gave away too many precious moments, hours, days and years.
So, I'm done trying to meet you, wherever you are
because I've finally decided that there are certain places where I can simply no longer tread.
I am discovering that the more I fill my own soul cup up, the more effort is required when I am in situations and environments that feel draining of my life force and vital energy.
Because this time n-o-w demands that we each,
that all of us, show up in the fullest of our humanity.
So, I hope you will see me and that you will be inspired to take to a dance floor, wildly, as we fling off all of our hopes and our dreams for our lost yesterdays and our coming tomorrows.
I hope you'll see me and want to talk about what moves you, about what your heart says and how you are going to serve others by offering your talents to the world. Because we need you.
We need you in the fullest of your potential. We need you at the highest of your vibration.
And, I need you. I need you to show up - fully - because when you do, you make me look good. And, as you can tell, I am quite the narcissist.
So, this is my new version of compassion and love for these radical 21st century times.
And, I like to think - in my heart of hearts - that this is compassion at its finest.
I LOVE YOU, damn it. Where are You? Your absence - your wandering mind, your disconnected body and your parched soul - is like a knife wound to my being. Your refusal stabs and punctures me.
Don't You See?
Let Go Of Your Fears..
N-O-W.
Friday, February 4, 2011
However, we can make it about SEX, too...
How can we not?
I am, after all, talking about "Sustainability" here.
And, as a species, we will not endure without Sex.
Period.
Unfortunately, we recognize that our biology is changing.
It is becoming increasingly harder for us to do as we have done for millennia and become naturally fertilized. In some cases, we might struggle with maintaining an erect penis or with relaxing long enough to enjoy the simple act of intercourse. This isn't merely a "personal problem." Babies are also now being born along with an alarming rise of diseases, such as Diabetes, as well as brain disorders, like Autism. For there is poison in our food, in our land, and in our water. And there is no mistaking its decaying stench. It runs, like blood, cutting swaths across what was once ripe and fertile farmland thereby creating Dead Zones in our great oceans. Life has we have known it is slowly suffocating.
Our bodies are changing - more rigid, less soft. More flat and angular, we've forgotten the multi-dimensionality of our Be-ing. Recently, while hoop-dancing (which, might I add, my skills are extremely elementary) at a local Farmer's Market, I inquired of the French Chef if he wanted to try. "I'm married, " he scornfully spit. "I have sex," he emphatically stated. I looked him in his eye and said, "Well, if you want to have GREAT Sex then you'll hoop and move your body. Practice makes perfect," I said with a wink as I moved along my merry way. Men, how many of you can drop down, wide, and into your ancestral stance of the Gorilla? Do you recognize how your open hips aid in your well-being? Let alone in exploring fantastic, Tantric poses? Yes, the same goes for us women, as well. Let's open up, and re-member...
Fortunately, Shakti will be presenting a workshop, here at the Hive, for just such a thing. Come, drop wider into the fullness of your Be-ing - which, YES, includes your Sexuality!
Your primal urges, your desire for fulfillment, your ancestral call to SURVIVE, to sustain, TO LIVE FULLY in all the GLORY of your Brilliant, Mad & Loving Humanity.
N-o-w is the time.
I am, after all, talking about "Sustainability" here.
And, as a species, we will not endure without Sex.
Period.
Unfortunately, we recognize that our biology is changing.
It is becoming increasingly harder for us to do as we have done for millennia and become naturally fertilized. In some cases, we might struggle with maintaining an erect penis or with relaxing long enough to enjoy the simple act of intercourse. This isn't merely a "personal problem." Babies are also now being born along with an alarming rise of diseases, such as Diabetes, as well as brain disorders, like Autism. For there is poison in our food, in our land, and in our water. And there is no mistaking its decaying stench. It runs, like blood, cutting swaths across what was once ripe and fertile farmland thereby creating Dead Zones in our great oceans. Life has we have known it is slowly suffocating.
Our bodies are changing - more rigid, less soft. More flat and angular, we've forgotten the multi-dimensionality of our Be-ing. Recently, while hoop-dancing (which, might I add, my skills are extremely elementary) at a local Farmer's Market, I inquired of the French Chef if he wanted to try. "I'm married, " he scornfully spit. "I have sex," he emphatically stated. I looked him in his eye and said, "Well, if you want to have GREAT Sex then you'll hoop and move your body. Practice makes perfect," I said with a wink as I moved along my merry way. Men, how many of you can drop down, wide, and into your ancestral stance of the Gorilla? Do you recognize how your open hips aid in your well-being? Let alone in exploring fantastic, Tantric poses? Yes, the same goes for us women, as well. Let's open up, and re-member...
Fortunately, Shakti will be presenting a workshop, here at the Hive, for just such a thing. Come, drop wider into the fullness of your Be-ing - which, YES, includes your Sexuality!
Your primal urges, your desire for fulfillment, your ancestral call to SURVIVE, to sustain, TO LIVE FULLY in all the GLORY of your Brilliant, Mad & Loving Humanity.
N-o-w is the time.
More on Sacred Sexuality
Today, we find ourselves teetering on a brink.
If you don't believe me, step outside.
The winds of change have been forcefully sweeping across these San Diego streets.
They blew towering Eucalyptus trees onto luxury vehicles in La Jolla and they brushed
Semi-Trucks off of the 8 Freeway in East County like pestilent flies.
As a passer-by said to me yesterday, while my feet carried me around the downtown, Gaslamp district,
"This is San Diego, not Chicago!"
Indeed.
Some thing is brewing.
Some of my dearest friends, environmentalists and ecologists alike, firmly believe that we will see great change in the time that is soon to come. They know that the Earth cannot support our current human systems and that, as a result, all we have known as middle class Americans will be irrevocably dismantled. In reading the work of Ray Kurzweil, I have come to agree with his theory of how our technological development is much like our human population - exponential in growth. He surmises that we will see roughly 1,000 times the rate of change as we witnessed in the last, "modern" century.
Can you envision what any of this looks like? I can't and I lost too many years feeling angry, sad and fearful, because of it.
Nonetheless, after losing precious days, hours and moments paralyzed by my own fear, I committed myself to an alternative path. Sometimes, I refer to it as my "Hero's Journey," as Paolo Coelho writes in his novel, The Alchemist. It is also the route of a "Light Worker," - it is the cinnabon-hairstyled Leila combined with the natural talents of Luke, the fierce love of Neytiri balanced by Jake Sully's vulnerability, the masculine and the feminine forever revolving in wondrous harmony. It is just as our Native American ancestors forebode in the great heavens above. When looking out and up at the North Star, Cassiopeia and the Big Dipper, they saw revolving man and revolving woman forever dancing around that great fire in the sky. (The next time we're out under the stars together, just ask and I will point it out to you.)
This is my version of Sacred Sexuality for these radical times - like the ying-yang symbol, the masculine and the feminine are inside each of us, n-o-w. There is no separation between. Balance is the improvisational dance of each of these - by listening deeply, we cull from a honed lexicon in order to respond most effectively to this moment now. (AKA Darwin's "Survival of the Fittest"). Our Sacred Sexuality is here, n-o-w, for each of us to pull from the deep pits of our psyche, utilize with dexterity and wield as a tool for our endurance. Because, believe me, in these coming times, you will need it!
Yes, indeed.
If you don't believe me, step outside.
The winds of change have been forcefully sweeping across these San Diego streets.
They blew towering Eucalyptus trees onto luxury vehicles in La Jolla and they brushed
Semi-Trucks off of the 8 Freeway in East County like pestilent flies.
As a passer-by said to me yesterday, while my feet carried me around the downtown, Gaslamp district,
"This is San Diego, not Chicago!"
Indeed.
Some thing is brewing.
Some of my dearest friends, environmentalists and ecologists alike, firmly believe that we will see great change in the time that is soon to come. They know that the Earth cannot support our current human systems and that, as a result, all we have known as middle class Americans will be irrevocably dismantled. In reading the work of Ray Kurzweil, I have come to agree with his theory of how our technological development is much like our human population - exponential in growth. He surmises that we will see roughly 1,000 times the rate of change as we witnessed in the last, "modern" century.
Can you envision what any of this looks like? I can't and I lost too many years feeling angry, sad and fearful, because of it.
Nonetheless, after losing precious days, hours and moments paralyzed by my own fear, I committed myself to an alternative path. Sometimes, I refer to it as my "Hero's Journey," as Paolo Coelho writes in his novel, The Alchemist. It is also the route of a "Light Worker," - it is the cinnabon-hairstyled Leila combined with the natural talents of Luke, the fierce love of Neytiri balanced by Jake Sully's vulnerability, the masculine and the feminine forever revolving in wondrous harmony. It is just as our Native American ancestors forebode in the great heavens above. When looking out and up at the North Star, Cassiopeia and the Big Dipper, they saw revolving man and revolving woman forever dancing around that great fire in the sky. (The next time we're out under the stars together, just ask and I will point it out to you.)
This is my version of Sacred Sexuality for these radical times - like the ying-yang symbol, the masculine and the feminine are inside each of us, n-o-w. There is no separation between. Balance is the improvisational dance of each of these - by listening deeply, we cull from a honed lexicon in order to respond most effectively to this moment now. (AKA Darwin's "Survival of the Fittest"). Our Sacred Sexuality is here, n-o-w, for each of us to pull from the deep pits of our psyche, utilize with dexterity and wield as a tool for our endurance. Because, believe me, in these coming times, you will need it!
Yes, indeed.
"Don't be a spectator on this trip. There's no death worse than just waiting around.
Set your heart on the Hero's Gold. And Go." --Rumi
On Sacred Sexuality
So, last week, my beloved business partner referred to me as a "Sacred Sexuality Muse" and it got me thinking. I would really like to clarify...
because, you see, "Sacred Sexuality" is less about the actual act of intercourse and more about where we find ourselves - in space and time, as human be-ings on this great starship, Earth - n-o-w.
Remember how we all loved last winter's blockbuster, "Avatar?" We talked about it here on the Internet and in conversational circles around the country. We even had Avatar-themed parties where people painted their whole selves blue, came together in intention and madly danced for a world teetering on a brink. For some reason, we were MOVED to rally together, and all because of a James Cameron film that made billions of American dollars worldwide. Something in this movie hit home - something touched us, deeply and on a primal level.
The story itself is simple. It's a refrain that has been sung throughout human history. A dark side, corrupted by greed, anger and technology, will not alter its destructive course until all light, wisdom and truth has been consumed. The light side, on the other hand, is willing to sacrifice everything, including itself, for the highest vibration of the whole. In the early-mid twentieth century, we called it "The Hobbit." In the 70s and 80s, it was "Star Wars." Are these merely fantastical creations of the human imagination? Foreboding chronicles of an ever unfolding present? Or, psychic visions of a future that is yet to come? Who knows? (I sure don't.)
What we do recognize, however, is how significantly a role archetype plays in these timeless tales. We know these characters from our childhood: the bloodsucking Vampire & his victim, the angelic Virgin; the all-seeing, benevolent God and his co-creator, the life-forming Earth Goddess; the cunning Destructress who severs man's ego with a graceful, quick slice and her masculine counterpart, the champion warrior Shiva who defends his life, his love and his territory until his very last breath. We are all of these. These invisible others form our collective, human consciousness. They make up our ancestral whole - our past, present and future combined. And, I believe, they are essences that we each must be able to harness and know NOW. For our very future depends on it.
And this is where my path will verge from that of David Deida, sacred sexuality provacateur. I have been investigating Deida's work primarily through my relationship with others who have had direct contact with both him and his books. Although I enjoy the work Deida endeavors - especially with American men who Deida firmly teaches how to show up in the fullness of their masculinity, with their desire for freedom and an intense focus on being present to their purpose (which includes being present to the seemingly "craziness" of their female counterparts) - I think he is missing the boat in regards to where we find ourselves in this radical 21st century today. I think that, ultimately, Deida's work still erroneously divides the sexes into two sides and, as an unintentional result, continues to foster gender stereotypes.
because, you see, "Sacred Sexuality" is less about the actual act of intercourse and more about where we find ourselves - in space and time, as human be-ings on this great starship, Earth - n-o-w.
Remember how we all loved last winter's blockbuster, "Avatar?" We talked about it here on the Internet and in conversational circles around the country. We even had Avatar-themed parties where people painted their whole selves blue, came together in intention and madly danced for a world teetering on a brink. For some reason, we were MOVED to rally together, and all because of a James Cameron film that made billions of American dollars worldwide. Something in this movie hit home - something touched us, deeply and on a primal level.
The story itself is simple. It's a refrain that has been sung throughout human history. A dark side, corrupted by greed, anger and technology, will not alter its destructive course until all light, wisdom and truth has been consumed. The light side, on the other hand, is willing to sacrifice everything, including itself, for the highest vibration of the whole. In the early-mid twentieth century, we called it "The Hobbit." In the 70s and 80s, it was "Star Wars." Are these merely fantastical creations of the human imagination? Foreboding chronicles of an ever unfolding present? Or, psychic visions of a future that is yet to come? Who knows? (I sure don't.)
What we do recognize, however, is how significantly a role archetype plays in these timeless tales. We know these characters from our childhood: the bloodsucking Vampire & his victim, the angelic Virgin; the all-seeing, benevolent God and his co-creator, the life-forming Earth Goddess; the cunning Destructress who severs man's ego with a graceful, quick slice and her masculine counterpart, the champion warrior Shiva who defends his life, his love and his territory until his very last breath. We are all of these. These invisible others form our collective, human consciousness. They make up our ancestral whole - our past, present and future combined. And, I believe, they are essences that we each must be able to harness and know NOW. For our very future depends on it.
And this is where my path will verge from that of David Deida, sacred sexuality provacateur. I have been investigating Deida's work primarily through my relationship with others who have had direct contact with both him and his books. Although I enjoy the work Deida endeavors - especially with American men who Deida firmly teaches how to show up in the fullness of their masculinity, with their desire for freedom and an intense focus on being present to their purpose (which includes being present to the seemingly "craziness" of their female counterparts) - I think he is missing the boat in regards to where we find ourselves in this radical 21st century today. I think that, ultimately, Deida's work still erroneously divides the sexes into two sides and, as an unintentional result, continues to foster gender stereotypes.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
(the synchrony is always awaiting your discovery)
"Todo Mundo ("All the World") blends the musical flavors of samba, rumba, reggae, and other South American and Caribbean styles into an irresistible groove that lifts the spirits of all who hear it. Led by Santiago Orozco, a native Colombian, along with Melissa Mejia and Jake Sibley, Todo Mundo believes that music, as the universal language, is the best way to bring the world together."
On "My World Is Broken"
I don't write these Rumi-nations because I am hung up on the past.
Rather, I make room in my day-to-day for writing down my stream of consciousness because life is demanding that I do so.
Two weeks ago, I was dusting off and rearranging my altar, upon which sits
one of my few prized possessions. It's a music box that I was given for Christmas decades ago when I was an idealistic, little girl growing up with the sugary pop tunes of the American 80s in an era of "Reaganomics." The Berlin wall was coming down as consumptive individualism was on the rise, signifying a "new democracy." Naively, I danced around, in a haze of Broadway tunes, as I sang television hit songs, like "Fame, I'm gonna live forever, I'm gonna learn how to fly - HIGH."
Since then, my music box - a clay figurine of four diverse children standing upon a spinning, half Earth - has remained carefully at ease with my belongings at my parent's home. Every few years, I would turn it upon its axis and listen to its iconic melody play out, Michael Jackson's "We Are the World." "We are the Children. We are the ones who make a brighter day, so let's start giving." Then, just like that, my music box toppled off of my altar and onto the honey-colored floor of the Hive. I sat there, dumbstruck, by my own lack of caring and inability to really pay attention. I no longer believe in coincidences, you see. Thus, I immediately recognized the deep symbolism discovered in this moment.
Nonetheless, all I felt I could do was to set my music box aside until I had walked over to the nearest pharmacy to purchase a bottle of super glue. Now, my imperfect and flawed world sits and spins just as it once did. However, conspicuously missing is a triangular piece of the globe. Ironically, it is a chunk of the hardened clay where the Eastern board of Canada lay - the exact geographic location where I was born, this time around. I fixed it as best I could and then moved on with my life.
Yesterday, however, as I was catnapping in the dark confines of the Hive's back office, I was again bombarded by my own negligence. A decade ago, as a wandering young adult, I traveled the globe in search of myself. Along the way, I collected stories, adventures and relationships - much like others accrue possessions. As a keepsake, I had created a hanging collage of photographs and patches surrounding a Mary Engelbreit poster that reads, "Hurt not the Earth, neither the Sea, nor the Trees." For weeks now, it had hung above my bed in the back office. And then, yesterday, as I tried to sleep off my headache from a late night spent grooving to the amazing tunes of Todo Mundo, it fell, right upon my weary head. The glass broke as shards of it rained down and into my thick, brown hair. Yet, again, I was left mesmerized by the message.
So, you see, the Universe is demanding that I share this with you. All I can do now is try, as best as I can, to listen and respond. All I can do now is try to keep showing up, one foot in front of the other, and walking forward into some unknown future. All I can do now is trust and believe that life is unfolding according to divine perfect order. Even as my head hurts and all I want to do is go back to bed. Even as the whiny voice of the purple Violet, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, plays out - over and over again in my spoiled, American bodymind - "But I want it NOW!"
Yes, my world is broken. Maybe, acknowledging this is my starting place. Maybe, it's all of ours.
Rather, I make room in my day-to-day for writing down my stream of consciousness because life is demanding that I do so.
Two weeks ago, I was dusting off and rearranging my altar, upon which sits
one of my few prized possessions. It's a music box that I was given for Christmas decades ago when I was an idealistic, little girl growing up with the sugary pop tunes of the American 80s in an era of "Reaganomics." The Berlin wall was coming down as consumptive individualism was on the rise, signifying a "new democracy." Naively, I danced around, in a haze of Broadway tunes, as I sang television hit songs, like "Fame, I'm gonna live forever, I'm gonna learn how to fly - HIGH."
Since then, my music box - a clay figurine of four diverse children standing upon a spinning, half Earth - has remained carefully at ease with my belongings at my parent's home. Every few years, I would turn it upon its axis and listen to its iconic melody play out, Michael Jackson's "We Are the World." "We are the Children. We are the ones who make a brighter day, so let's start giving." Then, just like that, my music box toppled off of my altar and onto the honey-colored floor of the Hive. I sat there, dumbstruck, by my own lack of caring and inability to really pay attention. I no longer believe in coincidences, you see. Thus, I immediately recognized the deep symbolism discovered in this moment.
Nonetheless, all I felt I could do was to set my music box aside until I had walked over to the nearest pharmacy to purchase a bottle of super glue. Now, my imperfect and flawed world sits and spins just as it once did. However, conspicuously missing is a triangular piece of the globe. Ironically, it is a chunk of the hardened clay where the Eastern board of Canada lay - the exact geographic location where I was born, this time around. I fixed it as best I could and then moved on with my life.
Yesterday, however, as I was catnapping in the dark confines of the Hive's back office, I was again bombarded by my own negligence. A decade ago, as a wandering young adult, I traveled the globe in search of myself. Along the way, I collected stories, adventures and relationships - much like others accrue possessions. As a keepsake, I had created a hanging collage of photographs and patches surrounding a Mary Engelbreit poster that reads, "Hurt not the Earth, neither the Sea, nor the Trees." For weeks now, it had hung above my bed in the back office. And then, yesterday, as I tried to sleep off my headache from a late night spent grooving to the amazing tunes of Todo Mundo, it fell, right upon my weary head. The glass broke as shards of it rained down and into my thick, brown hair. Yet, again, I was left mesmerized by the message.
So, you see, the Universe is demanding that I share this with you. All I can do now is try, as best as I can, to listen and respond. All I can do now is try to keep showing up, one foot in front of the other, and walking forward into some unknown future. All I can do now is trust and believe that life is unfolding according to divine perfect order. Even as my head hurts and all I want to do is go back to bed. Even as the whiny voice of the purple Violet, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, plays out - over and over again in my spoiled, American bodymind - "But I want it NOW!"
Yes, my world is broken. Maybe, acknowledging this is my starting place. Maybe, it's all of ours.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
My World is Broken, take III
Sweet, with a hopefulness of youth,
he says, "You have to put your baggage down."
What he has not yet learned is that sometimes the past
can grow like a cancerous tumor upon the back of
each of our internal Quasimodos, forcing us to bend at the
knees and cave to the weight of its nagging protuberance,
unstoppable in its coming, unable to reach around and face its
beginning,
our world is broken.
"I enjoy creative writing," she says to me, with a wink and a glance.
Together, we decide on the Tao of the Butterfly as a spring workshop
offering. "Let me know which dates work for you," I call after her
as she merrily departs our warm cocoon, nuzzled high in the San Diego sky.
My world is broken.
I know you read me, you see me, and, perhaps, you think you know something of me.
Do you know
my world is broken?
Do you know I need your help?
Do you know that I need YOU?
Not to mirror me, nor simply be my reflection, and not even to only play the role of a passive audience member, content in your silence and fulfilled by your witnessing, no. I need your voice and your story. I need your fullness of presence and your willingness to just show up. Please, dear God, just show up.
Because I need your help in writing all of my wrongs,
in righting all of my careless deeds and damaging left turns.
My world is broken.
I need YOU in this here and now,
standing at my side
lending your stoic support
because my world is broken
and I broke it
willingly
shamefully
without thought or regard
for tomorrow
for our children
for our children's children
I took and I took and
I take and I take
and still I somehow think
that I am more than others
and less than the whole
that my world is not broken
even though I did it
all by myself
like a spoiled, selfish child,
angry for not getting what she wants,
"Now, Daddy!"
and impatient with the time she is afforded
"I want it now, Daddy!"
I stomp my feet and wave my fists
I cry and I wail as my world falls to the ground
and breaks into a thousand little I's
"I want it now, Daddy!"
he says, "You have to put your baggage down."
What he has not yet learned is that sometimes the past
can grow like a cancerous tumor upon the back of
each of our internal Quasimodos, forcing us to bend at the
knees and cave to the weight of its nagging protuberance,
unstoppable in its coming, unable to reach around and face its
beginning,
our world is broken.
"I enjoy creative writing," she says to me, with a wink and a glance.
Together, we decide on the Tao of the Butterfly as a spring workshop
offering. "Let me know which dates work for you," I call after her
as she merrily departs our warm cocoon, nuzzled high in the San Diego sky.
My world is broken.
I know you read me, you see me, and, perhaps, you think you know something of me.
Do you know
my world is broken?
Do you know I need your help?
Do you know that I need YOU?
Not to mirror me, nor simply be my reflection, and not even to only play the role of a passive audience member, content in your silence and fulfilled by your witnessing, no. I need your voice and your story. I need your fullness of presence and your willingness to just show up. Please, dear God, just show up.
Because I need your help in writing all of my wrongs,
in righting all of my careless deeds and damaging left turns.
My world is broken.
I need YOU in this here and now,
standing at my side
lending your stoic support
because my world is broken
and I broke it
willingly
shamefully
without thought or regard
for tomorrow
for our children
for our children's children
I took and I took and
I take and I take
and still I somehow think
that I am more than others
and less than the whole
that my world is not broken
even though I did it
all by myself
like a spoiled, selfish child,
angry for not getting what she wants,
"Now, Daddy!"
and impatient with the time she is afforded
"I want it now, Daddy!"
I stomp my feet and wave my fists
I cry and I wail as my world falls to the ground
and breaks into a thousand little I's
"I want it now, Daddy!"
My World is Broken, take II
Like all good omens,
once is not enough
my world had to go and break
twice.
The first time, I chalked it up to
human error and blatant disregard.
Still, I bought my super glue
pasted the pieces back together
laid my spinning orb back upon its mantle,
dusted my hands off, patted myself on the back,
and returned to my usual ways.
This time around, however, my world fell and broke upon my hard head
shards of sharp glass rained down upon my dense cap
as I stirred in an afternoon slumber.
"Your world is broken,"
it calls from some ancient, distant time,
demanding my attention, forcing my hand,
screaming in my direction.
The bump on my head now does not allow for
a denial of its call.
My world is broken.
Like me, the damage feels irreparable.
Forever seared by needless suffering,
it can not be righted, no magic wand can be waved
to bring it back to what was once its vibrant state
of pure wholeness.
My world is broken.
Innocence gone and what remains
is a static repose, hungry in its eagerness to replace what once was
yet never satisfied with its filling.
My world is broken.
Never to be the same,
my world is broken.
Where do I grow from here?
My world is broken.
once is not enough
my world had to go and break
twice.
The first time, I chalked it up to
human error and blatant disregard.
Still, I bought my super glue
pasted the pieces back together
laid my spinning orb back upon its mantle,
dusted my hands off, patted myself on the back,
and returned to my usual ways.
This time around, however, my world fell and broke upon my hard head
shards of sharp glass rained down upon my dense cap
as I stirred in an afternoon slumber.
"Your world is broken,"
it calls from some ancient, distant time,
demanding my attention, forcing my hand,
screaming in my direction.
The bump on my head now does not allow for
a denial of its call.
My world is broken.
Like me, the damage feels irreparable.
Forever seared by needless suffering,
it can not be righted, no magic wand can be waved
to bring it back to what was once its vibrant state
of pure wholeness.
My world is broken.
Innocence gone and what remains
is a static repose, hungry in its eagerness to replace what once was
yet never satisfied with its filling.
My world is broken.
Never to be the same,
my world is broken.
Where do I grow from here?
My world is broken.
My World is Broken
Toppling off of the waist-high pedestal I haphazardly placed it upon,
tumbling towards the hard, flat floor
I absent-mindedly worked
as my sweet, little world fell to the ground
and with a simple crash
it broke
right up the center and into
North America
past where New Orleans meets the Gulf.
Broken into a thousand little I's,
what was once an innocent and playful revolution
is now sharp angles of threat
tinged with pieces of faded youth.
Still spinning, though now with labor
and with a force that is less ease, more lumber
less grace, more swagger.
My world is broken.
Its voluptuous circumference now lilts
and wobbles
moored upon an imperfect axis
it still spins, slower this time around
like Jupiter at recess, eager to keep up,
trying to fit in but embarrassingly conspicuous.
Too huge to mistake.
My world is broken.
The first time it happened, I simply sat by
dumbfounded at the utter ridiculousness
of my nonchalant actions
and spellbound that I could allow for such a violence.
My world is broken.
But the copious tears did not fall
for they had already been shed,
and my human heart did not break
for it had long-ago been broken.
No accident, this did not come from out of left field
like a sucker punch to the back,
no, this I watched unfold
this, I played my part
this, I allowed
and now here it is
broken.
And now, here I am
gluing the pieces back together
as though the incident never happened
and pretending as though the past does not exist
but I can not erase my deeds
and I can not magically recall the moment
when I wasn't paying attention
when I chose frivolous folly
over dedicated duty
when I thought I was a mere keeper
a shop owner
of that brilliant blue and green orb
until the other day
when it fell to the ground
taking with it
the heaviness of my mistakes
and breaking open
mysteriously revealing a gold tinged music box
at its heart.
Its tune remains, the refrain the same
it goes:
"There comes a time
When we heed a certain call
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying
And it's time to lend a hand to life
The greatest gift of all
We can't go on
Pretending day by day
That someone, somewhere will soon make a change...
We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So let's start giving
There's a choice we're making
We're saving our own lives
It's true we'll make a better day
Just you and me."
--"We Are the World" by Michael Jackson
tumbling towards the hard, flat floor
I absent-mindedly worked
as my sweet, little world fell to the ground
and with a simple crash
it broke
right up the center and into
North America
past where New Orleans meets the Gulf.
Broken into a thousand little I's,
what was once an innocent and playful revolution
is now sharp angles of threat
tinged with pieces of faded youth.
Still spinning, though now with labor
and with a force that is less ease, more lumber
less grace, more swagger.
My world is broken.
Its voluptuous circumference now lilts
and wobbles
moored upon an imperfect axis
it still spins, slower this time around
like Jupiter at recess, eager to keep up,
trying to fit in but embarrassingly conspicuous.
Too huge to mistake.
My world is broken.
The first time it happened, I simply sat by
dumbfounded at the utter ridiculousness
of my nonchalant actions
and spellbound that I could allow for such a violence.
My world is broken.
But the copious tears did not fall
for they had already been shed,
and my human heart did not break
for it had long-ago been broken.
No accident, this did not come from out of left field
like a sucker punch to the back,
no, this I watched unfold
this, I played my part
this, I allowed
and now here it is
broken.
And now, here I am
gluing the pieces back together
as though the incident never happened
and pretending as though the past does not exist
but I can not erase my deeds
and I can not magically recall the moment
when I wasn't paying attention
when I chose frivolous folly
over dedicated duty
when I thought I was a mere keeper
a shop owner
of that brilliant blue and green orb
until the other day
when it fell to the ground
taking with it
the heaviness of my mistakes
and breaking open
mysteriously revealing a gold tinged music box
at its heart.
Its tune remains, the refrain the same
it goes:
"There comes a time
When we heed a certain call
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying
And it's time to lend a hand to life
The greatest gift of all
We can't go on
Pretending day by day
That someone, somewhere will soon make a change...
We are the world
We are the children
We are the ones who make a brighter day
So let's start giving
There's a choice we're making
We're saving our own lives
It's true we'll make a better day
Just you and me."
--"We Are the World" by Michael Jackson
More on "Primal Fluidity"
Primal as in first, original and foundational.
For billions of years, life on this planet has evolved and unfolded from the deep, dark waters that cover over three-quarters of the Earth's body. Like this first form, human be-ings mirror a similar molecular makeup - we, too, are three-quarters water and we begin these life journeys within the safe confines of a woman's warm womb. There, we begin to hear, feel and sense the environment that we will soon be birthed into. Supported within this first, mammalian home, our Earth bodies grow, expand, stretch, and come into Be-ing.
"Primal Fluidity" begins here with the slow, soft surrender back to this beginning. It starts with the release of holding on to all that came before - to the calls that have to be made, to the errands that have to be run and to the tinkering of thought that holds a sensitive human body hostage. "Primal Fluidity" begins with your relationship to the ground below your feet, to the studio floor supporting your weight. Working to realign the pattern of erect tension that your body has inherited from a lifetime of working against natural forces, you will be led, with breath work, guided meditation and gentle stretching, back. You will sink through the liquid, primal waters of the Seven Seas as well as the Four Oceans and into the planet's viscous, magma core. You will rediscover you - your innate beat and inherent rhythm, and the nourishment you seek for feeding your parched and withered spirit. Because it's there, inside of you. All you have to do is re-member and practice. The hardest part, however, is simply in showing up. In committing to YOU and YOUR NEEDS - in trying to let it all go. It isn't easy work, but it's the best work because it's YOURS. "Primal Fluidity" is your dance - it is an offering of basic and simple tools that you may call upon in your day-to-day life in order to experience more grace and ease as you navigate through this world, especially as you come in and out of contact with others.
Like a fern leaf unfurling towards the sun's rays, our spines also unfurl. Away from the Earth's crust and towards the atmosphere, we flourish. And, then, back again - away from the heavens above and towards the source within. Over and over again, we feed our own internal, ecosystem. In, out, out, in. Moving away from and back towards, expanding and contracting - universal motion in play. Yes, it is this simple.
However, we recognize where we find ourselves as human adults in space and time, n-o-w. We're confronted with a daily barrage of two-dimensionality that forces us to adhere to certain mandates. We're taught to sit when we want to run and we're berated to "shush" when we want to scream. We're scolded to listen when we want to investigate and we're conditioned to be taught (how to think, move, learn, speak, love, forgive...)
Now is the time.
Break out of the box.
Be Free.
Be Fluid.
Re-member your primal beginnings.
For billions of years, life on this planet has evolved and unfolded from the deep, dark waters that cover over three-quarters of the Earth's body. Like this first form, human be-ings mirror a similar molecular makeup - we, too, are three-quarters water and we begin these life journeys within the safe confines of a woman's warm womb. There, we begin to hear, feel and sense the environment that we will soon be birthed into. Supported within this first, mammalian home, our Earth bodies grow, expand, stretch, and come into Be-ing.
"Primal Fluidity" begins here with the slow, soft surrender back to this beginning. It starts with the release of holding on to all that came before - to the calls that have to be made, to the errands that have to be run and to the tinkering of thought that holds a sensitive human body hostage. "Primal Fluidity" begins with your relationship to the ground below your feet, to the studio floor supporting your weight. Working to realign the pattern of erect tension that your body has inherited from a lifetime of working against natural forces, you will be led, with breath work, guided meditation and gentle stretching, back. You will sink through the liquid, primal waters of the Seven Seas as well as the Four Oceans and into the planet's viscous, magma core. You will rediscover you - your innate beat and inherent rhythm, and the nourishment you seek for feeding your parched and withered spirit. Because it's there, inside of you. All you have to do is re-member and practice. The hardest part, however, is simply in showing up. In committing to YOU and YOUR NEEDS - in trying to let it all go. It isn't easy work, but it's the best work because it's YOURS. "Primal Fluidity" is your dance - it is an offering of basic and simple tools that you may call upon in your day-to-day life in order to experience more grace and ease as you navigate through this world, especially as you come in and out of contact with others.
Like a fern leaf unfurling towards the sun's rays, our spines also unfurl. Away from the Earth's crust and towards the atmosphere, we flourish. And, then, back again - away from the heavens above and towards the source within. Over and over again, we feed our own internal, ecosystem. In, out, out, in. Moving away from and back towards, expanding and contracting - universal motion in play. Yes, it is this simple.
However, we recognize where we find ourselves as human adults in space and time, n-o-w. We're confronted with a daily barrage of two-dimensionality that forces us to adhere to certain mandates. We're taught to sit when we want to run and we're berated to "shush" when we want to scream. We're scolded to listen when we want to investigate and we're conditioned to be taught (how to think, move, learn, speak, love, forgive...)
Now is the time.
Break out of the box.
Be Free.
Be Fluid.
Re-member your primal beginnings.
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