continuity
absolutely nothing
say it again
huh
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Saturday, October 29, 2011
autonomy
their leap of faith
your stumbling attempt
both are required, you know
potentiality and actuality
merge, to create
being
can you touch it?
will you allow it?
can it stand?
your stumbling attempt
both are required, you know
potentiality and actuality
merge, to create
being
can you touch it?
will you allow it?
can it stand?
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
sesshin swimming hole
wavering ripples of sunlight
dance along tree trunks
I silence my breath
one with the liquid mirror
dance along tree trunks
I silence my breath
one with the liquid mirror
nostrils suspended at reflective surface
feet in muck
I am turtle
hanging stillness
I am snake
watching patterns
Yes she knows my name
No orphan am I
Earth is my witness
River, salvation
cooled by the climb, I go on
fired by her flow, I dive in
heat-sink and water-wheel
through grace-works, I live
feet in muck
I am turtle
hanging stillness
I am snake
watching patterns
Yes she knows my name
No orphan am I
Earth is my witness
River, salvation
cooled by the climb, I go on
fired by her flow, I dive in
heat-sink and water-wheel
through grace-works, I live
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
mole, a unit of measurement
i pushed the envelope
paper cut?
no, not this time
it was all i could do
how can that be?
SO SO tiny
almost
imperceptible
ears
lock your doors! specs on!
when they pull you over
they're gonna look for technicalities
"aw man, yeah! they'll bust you for that"
duct tape, wind gusts, knife slash
celine and larry live
moment arm, wait to return
"i got a puppy
my wife would be SO happy"
paper cut?
no, not this time
it was all i could do
how can that be?
SO SO tiny
almost
imperceptible
ears
lock your doors! specs on!
when they pull you over
they're gonna look for technicalities
"aw man, yeah! they'll bust you for that"
duct tape, wind gusts, knife slash
celine and larry live
moment arm, wait to return
"i got a puppy
my wife would be SO happy"
Saturday, July 2, 2011
attired in souvenir
Some dozen or so years ago a new store came to our mall. Now lemme state right up front here, I am not and never have been a shopaholic kinda girl. However at that time there were quite a few preteen girls in my life. And therefore trawling the mall, and clothing stores in particular, was a required leisure time activity. I weaseled out and sent my husband as often as I could; but still, ended up logging plenty of mall time over those years.
I liked this new store overall, the styles suited me ok. I could find things to wear for myself there, as well as the kids. And you couldn't say that about most of the stores that were popular with these girls.
One thing though really bugged me about it. And that was their tendency to stock a large number of "fake" vacation t-shirts. I could not understand why anyone would want to wear a t-shirt that said something like "Cool City Beach" or "Scenic Mountain Resort" unless they really had been to Cool City and/or Scenic Mountain. The attractive colors and graphics could not tempt me into buying these shirts. The kids thought I was being a stupidly over-serious adult. I however couldn't get over it.
There seemed to me to be a double false advertising thing going on with the selling and the wearing of these shirts.
Number one - These places didn't exist! AND
Number two - The shirts were being sold at a major shopping mall national chain store (and all over the country I imagine). This was the antithesis of the casual fun locations the shirts were pretending to be advertising.
I think this bothered me especially hard because some of my favorite clothes over a lifetime have been in fact things I bought on vacation. Wearing them always brought extra fun because they reminded me of the trip memories... and... and ... Oh yeah that's why they are called souvenirs, huh?
A few prime examples come to mind.
Yellow t-shirt with rainbow stripe sunrise across the chest
Panama City Beach Florida 1979
College boyfriend, his older brothers and their friends. Motel on the beach, a swimming pool, goofy golf, boiled shrimp, cold beer and a whole bunch of older young adults treating us like equals!
OH Yeah! Now Those were heady times! ;)
Green fuzzy-lined wind breaker
YMCA of the Rocky's 1977
I was in love. I thought she was the greatest! Ah but the winter seasonal job didn't come through so I couldn't stay as long as I wanted. White Christmas, tiny tree, free lodging, back rubs, snowmobiling, swimming in a pool surrounded by glass walls with !snow! piled way up high outside, food poisoning on the last night, followed the next morning by a L O N G awkward cross country drive with HER parents.
Oh my, to be young and free again! :)
Red long sleep shirt
Nags Head North Carolina 1970(?)
Or was it '71? Hmmm, bet the weather service could probably tell us. I'm sure they made note of that gale.
Barrier island campgound. My floorless tent blew straight up and away! Driving rain. Lightning! OMG! the relentless lightning! even Daddy was scared, you could hear it in his voice. And as the water rose to ankle-deep in my parent's tent, we dashed for the car with its rubber-savior tires. Led by a ranger to the bath house on stilts, we survived the night sleeplessly with a host of other folks, All, with stories to tell.
Now THAT'S a vacation! :D
Of course those particular souvenir shirts have long since worn thread-bare
but the fond memories of the trips (and the clothes) still linger.
I surely didn't need those shirts to remember said trips; they were pretty fucking memorable trips in and of themselves. But still, I loved my souvenir clothing with a passion that my other clothes (sadly) never experienced. They were not simply utilitarian or pretty; they were more. As a matter of fact most of my fave souvenir wardrobe items were not to my usual tastes, in terms of color or design. And yet I'd bought them anyway, driven by the desire to hold fast to memories. And so the fact that they didn't "match" my usual style, I guess, moved me into new territory, expanded my palette, literally and figuratively... and that is a good thing, I think. And I loved them all the more for their fashion-misfit uniqueness.
There at the mall umpteen years ago, in my adult stodginess, it seemed to me that the fake souvenir shirts were violating something sacred. I absolutely could not understand why anyone would want to wear something that implied meaning, and yet was blatantly false.
This fashion trend disturbed me for years, but I think I've come full circle.
Lately my reading material and personal thoughts have leaned in the direction of illusion, and the idea that life is an illusion; that our daylight world is equally as unreal as we commonly believe our night-time dream world to be. The more I relax my mind into this framework, the more my life seems to fit this interpretation.
And so, full-circle, I must ask, why not embrace a pretend souvenir?
Each generation leads us into new territory. Perhaps the fact that today's fashion designers and today's teens have no problem with fake souvenirs isn't such a perverse and evil thing. Maybe we should embrace their in-your-face deception as a useful reminder that nothing is real, and clinging to single moments is futile.
I liked this new store overall, the styles suited me ok. I could find things to wear for myself there, as well as the kids. And you couldn't say that about most of the stores that were popular with these girls.
One thing though really bugged me about it. And that was their tendency to stock a large number of "fake" vacation t-shirts. I could not understand why anyone would want to wear a t-shirt that said something like "Cool City Beach" or "Scenic Mountain Resort" unless they really had been to Cool City and/or Scenic Mountain. The attractive colors and graphics could not tempt me into buying these shirts. The kids thought I was being a stupidly over-serious adult. I however couldn't get over it.
There seemed to me to be a double false advertising thing going on with the selling and the wearing of these shirts.
Number one - These places didn't exist! AND
Number two - The shirts were being sold at a major shopping mall national chain store (and all over the country I imagine). This was the antithesis of the casual fun locations the shirts were pretending to be advertising.
I think this bothered me especially hard because some of my favorite clothes over a lifetime have been in fact things I bought on vacation. Wearing them always brought extra fun because they reminded me of the trip memories... and... and ... Oh yeah that's why they are called souvenirs, huh?
A few prime examples come to mind.
Yellow t-shirt with rainbow stripe sunrise across the chest
Panama City Beach Florida 1979
College boyfriend, his older brothers and their friends. Motel on the beach, a swimming pool, goofy golf, boiled shrimp, cold beer and a whole bunch of older young adults treating us like equals!
OH Yeah! Now Those were heady times! ;)
Green fuzzy-lined wind breaker
YMCA of the Rocky's 1977
I was in love. I thought she was the greatest! Ah but the winter seasonal job didn't come through so I couldn't stay as long as I wanted. White Christmas, tiny tree, free lodging, back rubs, snowmobiling, swimming in a pool surrounded by glass walls with !snow! piled way up high outside, food poisoning on the last night, followed the next morning by a L O N G awkward cross country drive with HER parents.
Oh my, to be young and free again! :)
Red long sleep shirt
Nags Head North Carolina 1970(?)
Or was it '71? Hmmm, bet the weather service could probably tell us. I'm sure they made note of that gale.
Barrier island campgound. My floorless tent blew straight up and away! Driving rain. Lightning! OMG! the relentless lightning! even Daddy was scared, you could hear it in his voice. And as the water rose to ankle-deep in my parent's tent, we dashed for the car with its rubber-savior tires. Led by a ranger to the bath house on stilts, we survived the night sleeplessly with a host of other folks, All, with stories to tell.
Now THAT'S a vacation! :D
Of course those particular souvenir shirts have long since worn thread-bare
but the fond memories of the trips (and the clothes) still linger.
I surely didn't need those shirts to remember said trips; they were pretty fucking memorable trips in and of themselves. But still, I loved my souvenir clothing with a passion that my other clothes (sadly) never experienced. They were not simply utilitarian or pretty; they were more. As a matter of fact most of my fave souvenir wardrobe items were not to my usual tastes, in terms of color or design. And yet I'd bought them anyway, driven by the desire to hold fast to memories. And so the fact that they didn't "match" my usual style, I guess, moved me into new territory, expanded my palette, literally and figuratively... and that is a good thing, I think. And I loved them all the more for their fashion-misfit uniqueness.
There at the mall umpteen years ago, in my adult stodginess, it seemed to me that the fake souvenir shirts were violating something sacred. I absolutely could not understand why anyone would want to wear something that implied meaning, and yet was blatantly false.
This fashion trend disturbed me for years, but I think I've come full circle.
Lately my reading material and personal thoughts have leaned in the direction of illusion, and the idea that life is an illusion; that our daylight world is equally as unreal as we commonly believe our night-time dream world to be. The more I relax my mind into this framework, the more my life seems to fit this interpretation.
And so, full-circle, I must ask, why not embrace a pretend souvenir?
Each generation leads us into new territory. Perhaps the fact that today's fashion designers and today's teens have no problem with fake souvenirs isn't such a perverse and evil thing. Maybe we should embrace their in-your-face deception as a useful reminder that nothing is real, and clinging to single moments is futile.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
questionable equivalents
Tell me -
Are these the same song?
Jimi Hendrix' 'Angel' vs The Police's 'If you love them set them free'
I mean
as in
Are they expressing the same sentiment?
Or not?
And
if so,
or if not,
WHY?
I ask cuz I can't explain it (without a couple thousand words)
but the songs link inside my head.
And given a few beers plus couple hours,
I could likely relate several guy-experiences in my past where I "know" that I am/was the reason for these guys grooving on said songs.
And damn it I just have never decided if
I like this or not!
And so I ask.
Are these the same song?
Jimi Hendrix' 'Angel' vs The Police's 'If you love them set them free'
I mean
as in
Are they expressing the same sentiment?
Or not?
And
if so,
or if not,
WHY?
I ask cuz I can't explain it (without a couple thousand words)
but the songs link inside my head.
And given a few beers plus couple hours,
I could likely relate several guy-experiences in my past where I "know" that I am/was the reason for these guys grooving on said songs.
And damn it I just have never decided if
I like this or not!
And so I ask.
gifting
What does it mean when someone wants to give you something that you didn't ask for and don't particularly want?
And what is the proper course of action in such a situation?
This sort of dilemma has bugged me for most of my life. I believe I have now come to see others' motivations for what they truly are, an attempt to control me, to use me, while at the same time boosting their own feel-good factor.
These are win-win situations for them; and a great big frowny face for me :(
Only recently have I managed to get out from underneath these sorts encounters. It's still a struggle but I am getting more savvy at recognizing them. This weekend offered a spectacular such situation. And I am happy to report that I saw it developing in real time, made conscious choices and managed to avoid being railroaded. YAY me! :)
I've been trying to figure out how to write about this subject for some time now because I have long seen the problem. Having hit upon some success with it recently, I am feeling the urge to share today. I think the best way to approach this is by giving a couple specific examples and tossing in some of my homemade psycho-shit analysis.
Example ONE
A few years ago, friend "C" was moving. She decided to buy a new frig to make her home more attractive to prospective buyers. She offered her old one to me. Granted her discarded appliance was nicer than mine, but I didn't want hers because of its size and I said so. She didn't seem to want to take "no" for an answer. We went around it several times. In the end I agreed to take it. At a time highly inconvenient for me, I picked it up. Then under threat of a rain storm I had to enlist (actually force) a couple reluctant others to help me get it inside the house. Several weeks later this frig quit making cold. It was apparently damaged from the handtruck's bouncing down the basement steps. (I am told frigs are quite fragile in this way. Oh well, guess you learn something new everyday, huh?)
And so there it sits to this day doing nothing but taking up space.
So what happened in this situation?
1) Friend C got her feel-good. She reinforced for herself once again that she is a generous person cuz she gave away something valuable. Plus she didn't have to deal with or pay for her old appliance to be taken away and discarded.
2) I got stuck with multiple burdens.
I am now saddled with either,
fixing it
(I've wondered what it might cost to fix and if I might could then sell it on Craig's list)
OR
finding someone to help me haul the heavy-ass son of a bitch to the curb
and then paying the city's disposal fee.
Both options require me to spend more time and maybe money AND to ask for help, something which I am very disinclined to do.
And so the frig sits along with my GUILT -
guilt at not standing up for myself,
guilt for not being strong enough to force her into taking my "no thank you", and
guilt at not being more careful in getting it down the steps.
Fwiw this was not the first time this friendship manifest such a gifting dynamic. However it was the last. :D
I have decided that this particular sort of giving is a physical real world counterpart to the psychological concept of emotional projection. And I thank friend C for showing me the way to this understanding.
Example TWO
Roomie and I attended a festival. As is typical for such events, when it was all over, other festival goers left a huge mess of empty beer cans, trash, busted folding chairs etc. I knew that the organizers had a crew set to come in the next day for picking up the trash and recycling. However having made some lovely groundscores during and after the festival, I decided that I wanted to "give back" to the Gods of Universal Generosity. I thought that perhaps I could create balance for my scores and maybe even earn myself a few good karma points, by filling several bags of recycling before leaving the festival grounds. I was in no hurry, the weather was lovely. I figured that my action would lessen the clean-up crew's burden a tiny bit.
Roomie and I were in separate cars. I announced my recycling plan. He was free to leave when ever he wanted. He picked up some recycling and then stated he was ready to leave and listed his reasons why. I said fine but that I wasn't ready yet. He then told me that he had been planning on following me on the drive home "just in case your car were to break down or something". My car is old and did have a problem on my last trip out of town. That problem though was taken care of and I was not worried about my vehicle's dependability on this day. I had not asked to be followed. AND I was willing to accept the risk. (Note, when it broke down previously, no one was forced to come and rescue me, I bore the complete burden, secured repairs and sucked up my frustration at being late to where I'd been heading.) Roomie persisted briefly in his argument that I should quit wandering the campground with my recycling bag. Eventually he saw that I was unmoved. He then waited in his car with the A/C running.
So what was going on in this situation?
IMHO Roomie wanted a feel-good.
He wanted to feel good about following me, about protecting me, something he had been unable to do on the previous trip when my car did break down. The thing is I hadn't asked for this help or protection AND I felt it wasn't necessary at all on this occasion. It seemed unfair to me that I should have to change my plans because he had decided to give me this "following home" business. This was coming out of the blue for me, it was nothing we had previously discussed.
As I see it, his offer to follow me was in service to his own fear, his own worries that I might break down. It was not tied to me or to the car's current reality. And so I continued my clean-up activity un-influenced by his offer or decision to wait. In the not so distant past I likely would have changed my plans and cut short my recycling. In the same way that I gave friend C what she wanted by taking that god damned frig, I would have given him what he wanted by leaving when he wanted. I would have resented having to do so, but I would have done it, after a short protest of course. I would have sucked up my frustration and unhappiness.
Ok perhaps I have gone far enough with this example, and you already think me a horrible bitch for not accepting his offer, but I would like to share another wrinkle that I see in here. (And if you were on the fence in your opinion, this will probably help you solidify it.) There is an additional layer of the psychological shifting of emotions present in this situation (and relationship) that I think is very important to understand.
Roomie was not (and never is) feeling so generous as to want to clean up someone else's mess. The fact that I was doing such a thing could be interpreted positively towards me. Moi, yeah, I am a do-gooder. Go ahead, hate me ;) I propose here that Roomie noticed this fact unconsciously (and probably not for the first time in his life). He then flipped the emotion around to reflect negatively on himself, since he was not active in the doing good, but rather trying to stop it.
If I am good he must be bad and vice versa, cuz we are a pair, right? Yeah that is most definitely wrong-headed but unfortunately it is often how it works psychologically in relationships.
However being unable to contain a negative thought about himself, it became necessary for him to project that emotion onto me. And voilà! I became the inconsiderate person! In his eyes I was "making" him wait, and all he had done was generously offered to follow me home. I was doing something unnecessary, even frivolous, while rejecting his chivalrous offer of protection. And that clearly makes me the bad guy. Yep this psychological emotion stuff gets twisted but I would just about bet my life on this interpretation. I've lived it so many times. Now after studying it academically for a few years, it has all begun to make sense.
On this day though I saw the dynamic and chose not to play into it. I think that this is a good thing. I could be completely misguided but it sure felt good. And I am tired of feeling bad.
So what does this all mean? And what is the proper course of action when caught in such a potential riptide?
These two examples on the surface might seem quite different to the inexperienced eye. However I contend that they share an identical emotional pattern that can be recognized with practice. In each situation the giver was giving something that the receiver did not want or need. The givers were angling for a positive psychological feel-good for themselves. However in order for the giver to in fact get that desired feel good, the receiver must bear the burden, they must take on the weight of the unwanted unneeded "gift". And that is where the chain can be broken.
Whether physical or emotional or both, these gifts are heavy mother-fuckers. (Even the really little ones add up overtime.) Before you know it a strong back can be broken in this way. So what is the secret to ending these sorts of shifts in emotional mass? Don't take on another person's shit! Just say NO! and stick to your guns, little receivers!
Ultimately it is all about power - the power to make ourselves feel good OR feel bad, which ever the case may be. It is about being stuck in a rut, which is the result of fear of change or a lack of imagination. We are predisposed by early psychological experiences towards being givers or receivers. We unconsciously believe ourself powerful and entitled; or, not. We tend to relive and reinforce these patterns everyday.These tenancies need to be made conscious.
We all need to learn how to be both, takers and givers, or lol maybe neither! At the very least let's mix it up, and not always play the same side of the equation every time, huh? Recognizing when we are immersed in such a giver/receiver dynamic is necessary. Then we can allow the individual situation to dictate; and let the burden fall where it belongs. Coming to this balance point requires an honest evaluation of ones self. Without evaluation and self-awareness we remain trapped and blind. Ask yourself, "what is my role in this situation?" ... "what is my motivation?" ...
Do you encourage others to take advantage because you feel helpless to do otherwise? Are you playing the part of the people-pleaser and setting yourself up again and again? Are you silently carrying others' burdens for them, while they get off scot-free, because you are afraid to voice anger and displeasure? OR Are you being lazy cuz you're a lazy s.o.b.? Do you coerce others into taking what you wish to offload because they are gullible and you just don't give a damn? Are you patting yourself on the back for good deeds inflicted, proud of your little coup?
Admit it, if it is true. There is no other way.
How about give yourself the gift of honesty for a change?
Bear the burdens which rightly belong to you;
and give back (or simply don't take) the ones that don't belong.
And what is the proper course of action in such a situation?
This sort of dilemma has bugged me for most of my life. I believe I have now come to see others' motivations for what they truly are, an attempt to control me, to use me, while at the same time boosting their own feel-good factor.
These are win-win situations for them; and a great big frowny face for me :(
Only recently have I managed to get out from underneath these sorts encounters. It's still a struggle but I am getting more savvy at recognizing them. This weekend offered a spectacular such situation. And I am happy to report that I saw it developing in real time, made conscious choices and managed to avoid being railroaded. YAY me! :)
I've been trying to figure out how to write about this subject for some time now because I have long seen the problem. Having hit upon some success with it recently, I am feeling the urge to share today. I think the best way to approach this is by giving a couple specific examples and tossing in some of my homemade psycho-shit analysis.
Example ONE
A few years ago, friend "C" was moving. She decided to buy a new frig to make her home more attractive to prospective buyers. She offered her old one to me. Granted her discarded appliance was nicer than mine, but I didn't want hers because of its size and I said so. She didn't seem to want to take "no" for an answer. We went around it several times. In the end I agreed to take it. At a time highly inconvenient for me, I picked it up. Then under threat of a rain storm I had to enlist (actually force) a couple reluctant others to help me get it inside the house. Several weeks later this frig quit making cold. It was apparently damaged from the handtruck's bouncing down the basement steps. (I am told frigs are quite fragile in this way. Oh well, guess you learn something new everyday, huh?)
And so there it sits to this day doing nothing but taking up space.
So what happened in this situation?
1) Friend C got her feel-good. She reinforced for herself once again that she is a generous person cuz she gave away something valuable. Plus she didn't have to deal with or pay for her old appliance to be taken away and discarded.
2) I got stuck with multiple burdens.
I am now saddled with either,
fixing it
(I've wondered what it might cost to fix and if I might could then sell it on Craig's list)
OR
finding someone to help me haul the heavy-ass son of a bitch to the curb
and then paying the city's disposal fee.
Both options require me to spend more time and maybe money AND to ask for help, something which I am very disinclined to do.
And so the frig sits along with my GUILT -
guilt at not standing up for myself,
guilt for not being strong enough to force her into taking my "no thank you", and
guilt at not being more careful in getting it down the steps.
Fwiw this was not the first time this friendship manifest such a gifting dynamic. However it was the last. :D
I have decided that this particular sort of giving is a physical real world counterpart to the psychological concept of emotional projection. And I thank friend C for showing me the way to this understanding.
Example TWO
Roomie and I attended a festival. As is typical for such events, when it was all over, other festival goers left a huge mess of empty beer cans, trash, busted folding chairs etc. I knew that the organizers had a crew set to come in the next day for picking up the trash and recycling. However having made some lovely groundscores during and after the festival, I decided that I wanted to "give back" to the Gods of Universal Generosity. I thought that perhaps I could create balance for my scores and maybe even earn myself a few good karma points, by filling several bags of recycling before leaving the festival grounds. I was in no hurry, the weather was lovely. I figured that my action would lessen the clean-up crew's burden a tiny bit.
Roomie and I were in separate cars. I announced my recycling plan. He was free to leave when ever he wanted. He picked up some recycling and then stated he was ready to leave and listed his reasons why. I said fine but that I wasn't ready yet. He then told me that he had been planning on following me on the drive home "just in case your car were to break down or something". My car is old and did have a problem on my last trip out of town. That problem though was taken care of and I was not worried about my vehicle's dependability on this day. I had not asked to be followed. AND I was willing to accept the risk. (Note, when it broke down previously, no one was forced to come and rescue me, I bore the complete burden, secured repairs and sucked up my frustration at being late to where I'd been heading.) Roomie persisted briefly in his argument that I should quit wandering the campground with my recycling bag. Eventually he saw that I was unmoved. He then waited in his car with the A/C running.
So what was going on in this situation?
IMHO Roomie wanted a feel-good.
He wanted to feel good about following me, about protecting me, something he had been unable to do on the previous trip when my car did break down. The thing is I hadn't asked for this help or protection AND I felt it wasn't necessary at all on this occasion. It seemed unfair to me that I should have to change my plans because he had decided to give me this "following home" business. This was coming out of the blue for me, it was nothing we had previously discussed.
As I see it, his offer to follow me was in service to his own fear, his own worries that I might break down. It was not tied to me or to the car's current reality. And so I continued my clean-up activity un-influenced by his offer or decision to wait. In the not so distant past I likely would have changed my plans and cut short my recycling. In the same way that I gave friend C what she wanted by taking that god damned frig, I would have given him what he wanted by leaving when he wanted. I would have resented having to do so, but I would have done it, after a short protest of course. I would have sucked up my frustration and unhappiness.
Ok perhaps I have gone far enough with this example, and you already think me a horrible bitch for not accepting his offer, but I would like to share another wrinkle that I see in here. (And if you were on the fence in your opinion, this will probably help you solidify it.) There is an additional layer of the psychological shifting of emotions present in this situation (and relationship) that I think is very important to understand.
Roomie was not (and never is) feeling so generous as to want to clean up someone else's mess. The fact that I was doing such a thing could be interpreted positively towards me. Moi, yeah, I am a do-gooder. Go ahead, hate me ;) I propose here that Roomie noticed this fact unconsciously (and probably not for the first time in his life). He then flipped the emotion around to reflect negatively on himself, since he was not active in the doing good, but rather trying to stop it.
If I am good he must be bad and vice versa, cuz we are a pair, right? Yeah that is most definitely wrong-headed but unfortunately it is often how it works psychologically in relationships.
However being unable to contain a negative thought about himself, it became necessary for him to project that emotion onto me. And voilà! I became the inconsiderate person! In his eyes I was "making" him wait, and all he had done was generously offered to follow me home. I was doing something unnecessary, even frivolous, while rejecting his chivalrous offer of protection. And that clearly makes me the bad guy. Yep this psychological emotion stuff gets twisted but I would just about bet my life on this interpretation. I've lived it so many times. Now after studying it academically for a few years, it has all begun to make sense.
On this day though I saw the dynamic and chose not to play into it. I think that this is a good thing. I could be completely misguided but it sure felt good. And I am tired of feeling bad.
So what does this all mean? And what is the proper course of action when caught in such a potential riptide?
These two examples on the surface might seem quite different to the inexperienced eye. However I contend that they share an identical emotional pattern that can be recognized with practice. In each situation the giver was giving something that the receiver did not want or need. The givers were angling for a positive psychological feel-good for themselves. However in order for the giver to in fact get that desired feel good, the receiver must bear the burden, they must take on the weight of the unwanted unneeded "gift". And that is where the chain can be broken.
Whether physical or emotional or both, these gifts are heavy mother-fuckers. (Even the really little ones add up overtime.) Before you know it a strong back can be broken in this way. So what is the secret to ending these sorts of shifts in emotional mass? Don't take on another person's shit! Just say NO! and stick to your guns, little receivers!
Ultimately it is all about power - the power to make ourselves feel good OR feel bad, which ever the case may be. It is about being stuck in a rut, which is the result of fear of change or a lack of imagination. We are predisposed by early psychological experiences towards being givers or receivers. We unconsciously believe ourself powerful and entitled; or, not. We tend to relive and reinforce these patterns everyday.These tenancies need to be made conscious.
We all need to learn how to be both, takers and givers, or lol maybe neither! At the very least let's mix it up, and not always play the same side of the equation every time, huh? Recognizing when we are immersed in such a giver/receiver dynamic is necessary. Then we can allow the individual situation to dictate; and let the burden fall where it belongs. Coming to this balance point requires an honest evaluation of ones self. Without evaluation and self-awareness we remain trapped and blind. Ask yourself, "what is my role in this situation?" ... "what is my motivation?" ...
Do you encourage others to take advantage because you feel helpless to do otherwise? Are you playing the part of the people-pleaser and setting yourself up again and again? Are you silently carrying others' burdens for them, while they get off scot-free, because you are afraid to voice anger and displeasure? OR Are you being lazy cuz you're a lazy s.o.b.? Do you coerce others into taking what you wish to offload because they are gullible and you just don't give a damn? Are you patting yourself on the back for good deeds inflicted, proud of your little coup?
Admit it, if it is true. There is no other way.
How about give yourself the gift of honesty for a change?
Bear the burdens which rightly belong to you;
and give back (or simply don't take) the ones that don't belong.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
beauty and struggle
My cat killed a bird this morning. I was fixing to pop the top on a little can of ever so delicious beef feast in beef flavored gravy when, I looked out the window and saw him playing with something brown and bouncy. I stepped outside to investigate. He rapidly lost interest, apparently his toy had suddenly stopped moving. I was curious. My bet was on it being a chipmunk, as they're quite plentiful and are paws-down the most tasty game to be found in this area. I was surprised to find, it was a small brown bird.
I knew this cat desired our feathered friends, more so than our other cats do. Many times I've seen him sitting inside on the bathroom window sill pitifully trembling and licking his lips over noisy flocks outside. I just never really thought he could take one down. He is, you see, the boy who has been found more than once munching on others kills, yes, sad but true, even road-killed squirrels were not above him in his younger days. Therefore a part of me was rather proud of him. After all, birds fly, they don't make it easy! I was pleased to see his skill set broadened.
Another part of me though was torn, heartbroken. It is a familiar pain. I've had outdoor cats all my life and so have seen my share of dead and dying small critters (many of them killed in my honor or brought to bed live in the middle of the night). I have friends who strongly believe that all cats should live indoors, who say that they are evil sadistic creatures depleting songbird population etc and that I am a bad pet owner (regardless of the fact that my animals are spayed, neutered, vaccinated and well fed!). The thing is I just know that I would never ever want to live indoors all the time. And so I have never been able to impose such limits on my animals. Believe me, I can be a real control freak about some issues, but this is one no-win situation which I have never tried to fight. A cat's predatory self is natural and thus I believe it is simply something we have to accept and respect. Whether we like it or identify with it, matters not.
Now I've seen plenty of dead birds but this one was still breathing, gasping actually, its little beak opening and closing rhythmically, and it hurt to watch. It's always hard knowing there is nothing one can to do to help or fix a sad situation. I wanted to pet it. The soft downy feathers were super tempting. But I knew that touch was likely the last thing the poor creature needed or wanted. I cupped my hands round in the grass.
All I could do was sit and witness.
"I witness your beauty; and, your struggle."
It was not unlike watching my older cat pass away last winter.
"I love you. You are not alone."
Waiting for last breaths, I caught myself wanting to hurry them on,
in order to selfishly relieve my own pain and disturbing emotions.
They struggled
I struggled
"Stay
centered
here in the now of this moment
You can do it"
And then,
gone.
I believe it would have been cowardly of me to turn away from those last moments. I know I brought no true comfort or pain relief but I wanted to offer my love, to share a tiny bit energy, to send them on their way into the unknown.
Some would say my actions and beliefs in these such matters are simply a psychological projection of my own need and loneliness. And I can not deny the logic in such a position. However I prefer to think that these little personal connections are the big moments that matter most. It is what we are meant to do, to live, to be, to be simply, and to witness one another. None can ever truly help another. Each has their own life to live and to lose, all on their own. The best we can do is be present, bear witness respecting the expression of the divine in each individual, including our self.
I knew this cat desired our feathered friends, more so than our other cats do. Many times I've seen him sitting inside on the bathroom window sill pitifully trembling and licking his lips over noisy flocks outside. I just never really thought he could take one down. He is, you see, the boy who has been found more than once munching on others kills, yes, sad but true, even road-killed squirrels were not above him in his younger days. Therefore a part of me was rather proud of him. After all, birds fly, they don't make it easy! I was pleased to see his skill set broadened.
Another part of me though was torn, heartbroken. It is a familiar pain. I've had outdoor cats all my life and so have seen my share of dead and dying small critters (many of them killed in my honor or brought to bed live in the middle of the night). I have friends who strongly believe that all cats should live indoors, who say that they are evil sadistic creatures depleting songbird population etc and that I am a bad pet owner (regardless of the fact that my animals are spayed, neutered, vaccinated and well fed!). The thing is I just know that I would never ever want to live indoors all the time. And so I have never been able to impose such limits on my animals. Believe me, I can be a real control freak about some issues, but this is one no-win situation which I have never tried to fight. A cat's predatory self is natural and thus I believe it is simply something we have to accept and respect. Whether we like it or identify with it, matters not.
Now I've seen plenty of dead birds but this one was still breathing, gasping actually, its little beak opening and closing rhythmically, and it hurt to watch. It's always hard knowing there is nothing one can to do to help or fix a sad situation. I wanted to pet it. The soft downy feathers were super tempting. But I knew that touch was likely the last thing the poor creature needed or wanted. I cupped my hands round in the grass.
All I could do was sit and witness.
"I witness your beauty; and, your struggle."
It was not unlike watching my older cat pass away last winter.
"I love you. You are not alone."
Waiting for last breaths, I caught myself wanting to hurry them on,
in order to selfishly relieve my own pain and disturbing emotions.
They struggled
I struggled
"Stay
centered
here in the now of this moment
You can do it"
And then,
gone.
I believe it would have been cowardly of me to turn away from those last moments. I know I brought no true comfort or pain relief but I wanted to offer my love, to share a tiny bit energy, to send them on their way into the unknown.
Some would say my actions and beliefs in these such matters are simply a psychological projection of my own need and loneliness. And I can not deny the logic in such a position. However I prefer to think that these little personal connections are the big moments that matter most. It is what we are meant to do, to live, to be, to be simply, and to witness one another. None can ever truly help another. Each has their own life to live and to lose, all on their own. The best we can do is be present, bear witness respecting the expression of the divine in each individual, including our self.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
touch me
Do you exist?
How do you know?
Cuz you logged in today?
and found yourself tagged in someone
else's pics? Or saw a reply to the post you made
on her wall? Cuz you googled your own name? and the search
did not come up empty? Or was it because, you are
absolutely certain that you heard that sucking
sound, when at last, you'd said
your goodbyes
How do you know?
Cuz you logged in today?
and found yourself tagged in someone
else's pics? Or saw a reply to the post you made
on her wall? Cuz you googled your own name? and the search
did not come up empty? Or was it because, you are
absolutely certain that you heard that sucking
sound, when at last, you'd said
your goodbyes
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
swims-with-rainbows
As a child I never really enjoyed making up "indian names", something that I recall other kids happily goofing on frequently. In that same vein I was never interested in participating in plays or the drama club in school, I didn't want to pretend to be some one else. And I could never understand the fun that others got from being "in character" at a costume party. I guess you could say I had a hang-up with identity, maybe a control issue, a deep desire to not be mis-labeled.
The first time I had to create a username online it bugged me because it seemed just one more hoop to jump through, one more barrier preventing me from getting to do what I'd logged on to do. I got all hung up over the fact that it needed to be something that I could remember, but the privacy paranoid inside me wouldn't allow the use of my real name.
Over time though I've shifted my feelings on this naming business. I've come to appreciate the amazing creativity possible in pairing just the right name with its raison d'etre. And I have even found that finding the perfect corresponding password and email can be almost orgasmic.
Yesterday I was swimming laps when late afternoon sunlight shone in to the pool. Wish I'd had a camera! I've seen this happen before. It is one of the things I like about this particular pool. First lane one was in the light, then lanes one and two... Slowly the light made its way across, bathing new lanes with brightness, then eventually receding from each in turn.
The really cool thing yesterday that I don't believe I ever noticed before was the rainbows. Why rainbows? I don't know. Maybe the water chemistry was just right? Or perhaps there was something special about the exact angle of the sun on this April afternoon. Or maybe the windows had recently been washed.
There they were! all over the place! At first I thought the colors might have been the product of my new googles, as if conceivably the lens coating was bending the images and I was the only one seeing rainbows. But no, I stopped, pulled my googles off and took a break. I became mesmerized. The water's surface was in constant motion due to the movement of swimmers in all corners of the pool. Every dimple of water, every sloshing standing wave cast a wiggling alive giraffe-splotch of light on the pool bottom. And each constantly morphing shape was bounded by a sharp line of rainbow light. Whenever a swimmer in the next lane passed by, it all broke up becoming gray and lumpy, like roiling clouds or surf-foam. A few seconds later the boundary lines would re-establish and the rainbows would brighten. Being a university pool, I suspect there were more than a few engineers and scientists splashing about who could have geeked long and hard about light, water, wavelengths, reflection, diffraction, turbulence and I could have enjoyed that too. But none of those revelations would've been able to compete with the sheer joy of being immersed in living rainbow water.
Watching the rainbows, my strokes had new energy. My eyes roamed back and forth constantly over shifting colors and I swear the laps became shorter. I turned my head to breath and inhaled the blinding sun itself. I found myself giggling underwater and thinking, "I wanna do this every day! ....swims-with-rainbows, YES! ... swimswithrainbows, what a fucking cool username that would be!... "
Now I know this name easily lends itself to images of the saccharine sparkly unicorns and smiley faces so popular with the pre-teen set, and a certain variety of middle age woman. And I assure you a cornified username is not my intention. But I just can't help myself, I love this name! So much so that I think I might be willing to risk being misunderstood. Now if only I had some place to use it. :D
Yours truly,
SwimsWithRainbows
The first time I had to create a username online it bugged me because it seemed just one more hoop to jump through, one more barrier preventing me from getting to do what I'd logged on to do. I got all hung up over the fact that it needed to be something that I could remember, but the privacy paranoid inside me wouldn't allow the use of my real name.
Over time though I've shifted my feelings on this naming business. I've come to appreciate the amazing creativity possible in pairing just the right name with its raison d'etre. And I have even found that finding the perfect corresponding password and email can be almost orgasmic.
Yesterday I was swimming laps when late afternoon sunlight shone in to the pool. Wish I'd had a camera! I've seen this happen before. It is one of the things I like about this particular pool. First lane one was in the light, then lanes one and two... Slowly the light made its way across, bathing new lanes with brightness, then eventually receding from each in turn.
The really cool thing yesterday that I don't believe I ever noticed before was the rainbows. Why rainbows? I don't know. Maybe the water chemistry was just right? Or perhaps there was something special about the exact angle of the sun on this April afternoon. Or maybe the windows had recently been washed.
There they were! all over the place! At first I thought the colors might have been the product of my new googles, as if conceivably the lens coating was bending the images and I was the only one seeing rainbows. But no, I stopped, pulled my googles off and took a break. I became mesmerized. The water's surface was in constant motion due to the movement of swimmers in all corners of the pool. Every dimple of water, every sloshing standing wave cast a wiggling alive giraffe-splotch of light on the pool bottom. And each constantly morphing shape was bounded by a sharp line of rainbow light. Whenever a swimmer in the next lane passed by, it all broke up becoming gray and lumpy, like roiling clouds or surf-foam. A few seconds later the boundary lines would re-establish and the rainbows would brighten. Being a university pool, I suspect there were more than a few engineers and scientists splashing about who could have geeked long and hard about light, water, wavelengths, reflection, diffraction, turbulence and I could have enjoyed that too. But none of those revelations would've been able to compete with the sheer joy of being immersed in living rainbow water.
Watching the rainbows, my strokes had new energy. My eyes roamed back and forth constantly over shifting colors and I swear the laps became shorter. I turned my head to breath and inhaled the blinding sun itself. I found myself giggling underwater and thinking, "I wanna do this every day! ....swims-with-rainbows, YES! ... swimswithrainbows, what a fucking cool username that would be!... "
Now I know this name easily lends itself to images of the saccharine sparkly unicorns and smiley faces so popular with the pre-teen set, and a certain variety of middle age woman. And I assure you a cornified username is not my intention. But I just can't help myself, I love this name! So much so that I think I might be willing to risk being misunderstood. Now if only I had some place to use it. :D
Yours truly,
SwimsWithRainbows
Sunday, April 3, 2011
SPAMMERS SUCK
Over the past several years I have gotten a lot of help from talking on Internet message boards. Through a number of communities I found much needed validation, venting, education and healing relationships. I would never have sought out the help I needed in the real world - of that, there is absolutely no doubt. Without the Internet I would have been hopelessly stuck in a miserable life because I am the sort of person who does not share when I am hurting.
As wonderful as those message board relationships have been for me, it seems I've lost touch with or out grown them all. I no longer check in to places that at one time I touched base with several times a day. Recently though I have been noticing signs that an unconscious part of me is disturbed. It is an issue that I have long noticed but never wanted to talk about. I suspect that my progress in other areas is creating an environment where this neglected issue is now growing. And it seems to be becoming exponentially expressive. Everywhere I turn, I recognize the pattern. And so, a few weeks ago thinking that perhaps it is time perhaps to face this and hopefully put it behind me, I did what all modern folks do, I turned to google.
I felt quite fortunate the night I discovered a small newly created community that seemed to have potential. I thought I might perhaps be able to explore this issue of mine and learn and grow and maybe even help others by sharing some of what I have learned through my previous board memberships. I lurked for a while, eventually made an account, and later left few comments on threads. Last night, I took the plunge, I officially introduced myself and opened my issue.
This morning I logged in and discovered the site was being spammed BIG time. Every section, every thread, dozens and dozens of pharmaceutical ads posted by the same person. Motherfucker! I am pissed! My hopes dashed. This potential new home may not be as stable as it looked on the surface. What if they can't get a grip on it? What if the board sinks and disappears under mounds of spam? Damn opportunistic, rude pill pusher! This sort of spamming is pure evil.
Last week I noticed a thread that was started by a guy who was obviously plugging his business. I didn't mind. His virtual voice sounded genuine and imo the conversation had some value. My issue with him is that although he means well, I believe he is simply alleviating symptoms temporarily, while the ultimate cause of the problem goes misunderstood and untreated. And that is essentially what I said in comment on the thread. I have no problem with his kind of post on the board, because ultimately it fulfills the mission of the board - to stimulate conversation and understanding around the board's topic. Plus his post wasn't so loud or long as to prevent others from speaking. I think it is possible that he might gain some understanding if he comes back and reads my comment. And frankly if someone reading the thread contacts him and he gains a customer, then that is fine and dandy with me too. As I see it, no one was hurt through his entrepreneurial participation.
In contrast I see absolutely no redeeming value in today's spammer. Such blatant multiple postings are the sort of thing that will quickly overwhelm the board's admin. It is hard for me to believe that anyone would support such advertising. However these self-help boards are full of desperate folks and many are grasping for any relief they can find. And so I assume that deals will be made as a result of today's spamming, discount pharmaceuticals will change hands. If it weren't profitable this sort of spamming would disappear.
I see long chains of lazy. Greedy pharmaceutical companies over-pricing. People in pain popping pills for a easy fix. Spammers looking to make a quick buck. And none regarding the harm that ripples away from their act of selfishness.
Like feet on bicycle peddles; one gets a free ride while the other bears the weight. The suffering circulates round and round driven by disparities of effort.
As wonderful as those message board relationships have been for me, it seems I've lost touch with or out grown them all. I no longer check in to places that at one time I touched base with several times a day. Recently though I have been noticing signs that an unconscious part of me is disturbed. It is an issue that I have long noticed but never wanted to talk about. I suspect that my progress in other areas is creating an environment where this neglected issue is now growing. And it seems to be becoming exponentially expressive. Everywhere I turn, I recognize the pattern. And so, a few weeks ago thinking that perhaps it is time perhaps to face this and hopefully put it behind me, I did what all modern folks do, I turned to google.
I felt quite fortunate the night I discovered a small newly created community that seemed to have potential. I thought I might perhaps be able to explore this issue of mine and learn and grow and maybe even help others by sharing some of what I have learned through my previous board memberships. I lurked for a while, eventually made an account, and later left few comments on threads. Last night, I took the plunge, I officially introduced myself and opened my issue.
This morning I logged in and discovered the site was being spammed BIG time. Every section, every thread, dozens and dozens of pharmaceutical ads posted by the same person. Motherfucker! I am pissed! My hopes dashed. This potential new home may not be as stable as it looked on the surface. What if they can't get a grip on it? What if the board sinks and disappears under mounds of spam? Damn opportunistic, rude pill pusher! This sort of spamming is pure evil.
Last week I noticed a thread that was started by a guy who was obviously plugging his business. I didn't mind. His virtual voice sounded genuine and imo the conversation had some value. My issue with him is that although he means well, I believe he is simply alleviating symptoms temporarily, while the ultimate cause of the problem goes misunderstood and untreated. And that is essentially what I said in comment on the thread. I have no problem with his kind of post on the board, because ultimately it fulfills the mission of the board - to stimulate conversation and understanding around the board's topic. Plus his post wasn't so loud or long as to prevent others from speaking. I think it is possible that he might gain some understanding if he comes back and reads my comment. And frankly if someone reading the thread contacts him and he gains a customer, then that is fine and dandy with me too. As I see it, no one was hurt through his entrepreneurial participation.
In contrast I see absolutely no redeeming value in today's spammer. Such blatant multiple postings are the sort of thing that will quickly overwhelm the board's admin. It is hard for me to believe that anyone would support such advertising. However these self-help boards are full of desperate folks and many are grasping for any relief they can find. And so I assume that deals will be made as a result of today's spamming, discount pharmaceuticals will change hands. If it weren't profitable this sort of spamming would disappear.
I see long chains of lazy. Greedy pharmaceutical companies over-pricing. People in pain popping pills for a easy fix. Spammers looking to make a quick buck. And none regarding the harm that ripples away from their act of selfishness.
Like feet on bicycle peddles; one gets a free ride while the other bears the weight. The suffering circulates round and round driven by disparities of effort.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
hunger
We entered the restaurant, it was seat yourself, we chose a booth in the front room and sat down.
"Somebody put salt on this table!" he said.
I held my tongue but wanted to say -
No dude, "there is salt on this table" might be accurate but the "somebody put it" bugs me. You say it as if someone did it on purpose. Have you honestly never noticed how easily it is for salt sprinkling from a shaker to bounce, scatter and land on things other than the intended food target? Can you not make an observation without placing blame? What's with all the knee-jerk fault finding? I heard annoyance in your voice. Who promised you perfection?
I was happy that there was enough money in the checking account this night that we could eat out cuz there hadn't been earlier in the week. I'd had a long day out and about, was tired and didn't want to go home and have to pull a meal together. I was happy that the booth in the front room was open. I prefer booths and I strongly prefer the front room of this restaurant over the louder brighter ones in back. I was happy that we did not have to wait for a table. I was happy that there wasn't sticky syrup and jelly or greasy margarine on the table as I had encountered at breakfast. Grains of salt were no biggie for me, not worth getting riled about.
As a matter of fact the only thing truly negative on my mind was my lack of a dinner companion possessing the ego-resilience capable of discussing my observations and all the weighty thoughts that filled my head as a result of his salt comment -
state vs trait, orientation, expectation, awareness, affect, agency, the death of a marriage, the purpose of love, the care of soul, happiness, suffering, non-permanence, transition, balance, darkness, way-finding, instinct, intuition, fate, sadness, blindness, wholeness....
"And so tell me, how did your business trip go?"
"Somebody put salt on this table!" he said.
I held my tongue but wanted to say -
No dude, "there is salt on this table" might be accurate but the "somebody put it" bugs me. You say it as if someone did it on purpose. Have you honestly never noticed how easily it is for salt sprinkling from a shaker to bounce, scatter and land on things other than the intended food target? Can you not make an observation without placing blame? What's with all the knee-jerk fault finding? I heard annoyance in your voice. Who promised you perfection?
I was happy that there was enough money in the checking account this night that we could eat out cuz there hadn't been earlier in the week. I'd had a long day out and about, was tired and didn't want to go home and have to pull a meal together. I was happy that the booth in the front room was open. I prefer booths and I strongly prefer the front room of this restaurant over the louder brighter ones in back. I was happy that we did not have to wait for a table. I was happy that there wasn't sticky syrup and jelly or greasy margarine on the table as I had encountered at breakfast. Grains of salt were no biggie for me, not worth getting riled about.
As a matter of fact the only thing truly negative on my mind was my lack of a dinner companion possessing the ego-resilience capable of discussing my observations and all the weighty thoughts that filled my head as a result of his salt comment -
state vs trait, orientation, expectation, awareness, affect, agency, the death of a marriage, the purpose of love, the care of soul, happiness, suffering, non-permanence, transition, balance, darkness, way-finding, instinct, intuition, fate, sadness, blindness, wholeness....
"And so tell me, how did your business trip go?"
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Say CHEEEEESE!
SO what is it with old photographs?
You know what I mean, right?
They don't bring true happiness or comfort, do they?
Or is it only me? who is ruminating - - -
"oh god I was so skinny then, if only..... we could go back.... and appreciate.....
"wow! I look so happy!..... Ahhhh if only I could be that happy today....
But was I? happy?
Well of course I was...
No!... No?...
Well, yeah, No.
When I think about it, no, I was probably bluffing... but damn don't it look good!
Actually though I don't remember the moment in which that pic was snapped, I don't remember it at all...
I don't remember squat to be honest.
Hmmmm, well now, still, how shall I go about being happy today? happy as I appeared to be on that day?... I think that's the attraction....cuz THAT is something I want, something I need... seeing that smile reminded me...
Oh no.... wait, you say that can't be done, I can't go back huh?... I can't be that again. Yeah, that day is past... and it was never what it seemed to begin with.
BUT but I swear I can ALMOST touch it! afterall I have this picture.... and it is tugging at my heart-strings...
What is that longing?
What is it?
Torture?
Why?
Longing for what?
Something real?
but That wasn't real.
If it had been real I think I'd still feel it, I'd still be it,
I'd exude IT instead of this loneliness that dogs me.
Is anything real?
idk
These pics, were real at some point in the past? I want them to be real. I want them to be now.
They document times past, past times yes, but real ones no less.
There is comfort in that, right?
Why not take comfort where you can?
But the feeling they bring isn't really comfort.
And so, wtf does all this mean?
Why are you staring at the pics again?
Why are you framing them, labeling them, uploading them? Don't you have something better to do with your time?
You can't touch them, they are soul-flight.
Wishing them tangible only fills you with longing, for an illusion, that never was.
You can't be them.... ever.... and/or again.
You can only be now, now. And never know, if now was, or was not. So, be.
Be done with
the past.
You know what I mean, right?
They don't bring true happiness or comfort, do they?
Or is it only me? who is ruminating - - -
"oh god I was so skinny then, if only..... we could go back.... and appreciate.....
"wow! I look so happy!..... Ahhhh if only I could be that happy today....
But was I? happy?
Well of course I was...
No!... No?...
Well, yeah, No.
When I think about it, no, I was probably bluffing... but damn don't it look good!
Actually though I don't remember the moment in which that pic was snapped, I don't remember it at all...
I don't remember squat to be honest.
Hmmmm, well now, still, how shall I go about being happy today? happy as I appeared to be on that day?... I think that's the attraction....cuz THAT is something I want, something I need... seeing that smile reminded me...
Oh no.... wait, you say that can't be done, I can't go back huh?... I can't be that again. Yeah, that day is past... and it was never what it seemed to begin with.
BUT but I swear I can ALMOST touch it! afterall I have this picture.... and it is tugging at my heart-strings...
What is that longing?
What is it?
Torture?
Why?
Longing for what?
Something real?
but That wasn't real.
If it had been real I think I'd still feel it, I'd still be it,
I'd exude IT instead of this loneliness that dogs me.
Is anything real?
idk
These pics, were real at some point in the past? I want them to be real. I want them to be now.
They document times past, past times yes, but real ones no less.
There is comfort in that, right?
Why not take comfort where you can?
But the feeling they bring isn't really comfort.
And so, wtf does all this mean?
Why are you staring at the pics again?
Why are you framing them, labeling them, uploading them? Don't you have something better to do with your time?
You can't touch them, they are soul-flight.
Wishing them tangible only fills you with longing, for an illusion, that never was.
You can't be them.... ever.... and/or again.
You can only be now, now. And never know, if now was, or was not. So, be.
Be done with
the past.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
prismatic coefficients
Open Wide
make my heart beat
scare me
confuse me
help me laugh at myself
forever learning
forever off-balance
forever entertained
the world is ours, you know
giddy is a good thing
!play! with me now
puleeeeeezzz.....
ha haha I love it when you beg :DDD
make my heart beat
scare me
confuse me
help me laugh at myself
forever learning
forever off-balance
forever entertained
the world is ours, you know
giddy is a good thing
!play! with me now
puleeeeeezzz.....
ha haha I love it when you beg :DDD
Saturday, February 12, 2011
"And I'm just a student of the game that they taught me"
In a conversation the other day about a new Linkin Park song, I couldn't help but recall a Clash song from my college days.
Later I spun the two together and think I got a glimpse of something kinda profound :)
In 1979's Guns of Brixton, The Clash sang,
"When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun"
On A Thousand Suns, Linkin Park's latest cd,
in a song full of rhythm, clashing sounds and spiraling energy,
the lines,
"Oh when they come for me
Come for me
I'll be gone"
float along smooth and free,
contrasting nicely with the rest of the song,
and with Guns of Brixton.
Now I am not gonna sit here and say I know the songwriters' intentions or references; or try to propose that theses songs are related in anyway other than in my head. My thoughts linking these songs are likely more a projection of who I am and where I am at this time in my life. However I don't think that makes my thoughts any less valid, so here they are.
When forced to choose, I want to come out fighting. And indeed I have done that pretty much lifelong. I fought and I lost. I tried and I came up short. I made it through but paid a high price. Life beat me down repeatedly. And each time I resolved that next time I would find a way to work harder, fight stronger, longer, on and on. Eventually somewhere around middle age, the Universe once again upped the ante on me and finally I had to fold.
Now days I am trying to go with the flow, unattached to the struggle, not grasping at any single outcome.
I've decided that life is like white water canoeing. Eventually you learn to respect the river. Frantic strokes in fast moving water rarely get you where you want to be. Sometimes less is more. A little rudder, a bit of draw, keep one eye open, breathe. Perhaps if I had paid a little more attention when I was younger and running those rapids, I could have applied this river-running philosophy to life in general, and saved myself years of trouble. Naw! that'd have been too easy.
When I was younger I was wearing blinders. I was sure and certain because of my limited view. I thought the only choice was 'which side are you on?'. I've come to learn however, that we often have more choices than we realize. Nothing is black and white. Seeing beyond the obvious is my new goal.
I like the Jungian concept of holding the tension of opposites. While it may look at first glance to be passive, it is not the same as coming to the door with your hands on your head and letting the police state take over. What can happen is that if you hold the tension long enough without choosing sides, if you just let things unfold, then most always a new previously unrecognized option/solution will present itself, making both the trigger-of-your-gun fight and the hands-on-your-head giving up unnecessary. When we engage and choose, we doom ourselves to endless alternating struggles, resulting in friction and pain.
I believe it is an art to be absent, to be formless, to wait in the open stillness, to follow our own path. We've the ever-present potential within us, it is always there - to not fight, not struggle, to not get caught in the good-bad right-wrong duality, to not let others define us.
The trick is it takes trust, courage and a little practice.
How you gonna come?........ is a deceptively simple question.
I'll be gone............................is an answer opening in to the limitless.
Later I spun the two together and think I got a glimpse of something kinda profound :)
In 1979's Guns of Brixton, The Clash sang,
"When they kick out your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun"
On A Thousand Suns, Linkin Park's latest cd,
in a song full of rhythm, clashing sounds and spiraling energy,
the lines,
"Oh when they come for me
Come for me
I'll be gone"
float along smooth and free,
contrasting nicely with the rest of the song,
and with Guns of Brixton.
Now I am not gonna sit here and say I know the songwriters' intentions or references; or try to propose that theses songs are related in anyway other than in my head. My thoughts linking these songs are likely more a projection of who I am and where I am at this time in my life. However I don't think that makes my thoughts any less valid, so here they are.
When forced to choose, I want to come out fighting. And indeed I have done that pretty much lifelong. I fought and I lost. I tried and I came up short. I made it through but paid a high price. Life beat me down repeatedly. And each time I resolved that next time I would find a way to work harder, fight stronger, longer, on and on. Eventually somewhere around middle age, the Universe once again upped the ante on me and finally I had to fold.
Now days I am trying to go with the flow, unattached to the struggle, not grasping at any single outcome.
I've decided that life is like white water canoeing. Eventually you learn to respect the river. Frantic strokes in fast moving water rarely get you where you want to be. Sometimes less is more. A little rudder, a bit of draw, keep one eye open, breathe. Perhaps if I had paid a little more attention when I was younger and running those rapids, I could have applied this river-running philosophy to life in general, and saved myself years of trouble. Naw! that'd have been too easy.
When I was younger I was wearing blinders. I was sure and certain because of my limited view. I thought the only choice was 'which side are you on?'. I've come to learn however, that we often have more choices than we realize. Nothing is black and white. Seeing beyond the obvious is my new goal.
I like the Jungian concept of holding the tension of opposites. While it may look at first glance to be passive, it is not the same as coming to the door with your hands on your head and letting the police state take over. What can happen is that if you hold the tension long enough without choosing sides, if you just let things unfold, then most always a new previously unrecognized option/solution will present itself, making both the trigger-of-your-gun fight and the hands-on-your-head giving up unnecessary. When we engage and choose, we doom ourselves to endless alternating struggles, resulting in friction and pain.
I believe it is an art to be absent, to be formless, to wait in the open stillness, to follow our own path. We've the ever-present potential within us, it is always there - to not fight, not struggle, to not get caught in the good-bad right-wrong duality, to not let others define us.
The trick is it takes trust, courage and a little practice.
How you gonna come?........ is a deceptively simple question.
I'll be gone............................is an answer opening in to the limitless.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Ouch
The topic of chronic pain and suffering has been in my head alot recently.
An oddball shoulder pain this summer, came and went for a while, and then turned back up this fall and taking over my life through the heart of winter. She is back in her cage now but not fully tamed. I've hope that by the time spring bursts, she'll be a long gone memory. But well, you just never know. This body gets older everyday and things don't always bounce back like they used to anymore. I'm not sure when that day is gonna come when what got pushed outta shape never rebounds. I fear it is just around the corner; OR, shit! who knows! maybe it was yesterday and only time will tell. Like menopause, many things are defined in retrospect.
I recall during my mother's last few years, her psychiatrist several times likening her psyche to a rubber band that had been stretched one too many times. I think my psyche is strong and flourishing, but the jury is still out on my physical body. And that uncertainty weighs heavyily.
I watched my brother-in-law and my cat die slowly this winter (yes, I said cat, yes, "just" a pet. He and his suffering btw count just as much in my book as any other :) For the past year my husband has struggled with an auto-immune disease that attacks muscle fiber. Also this week I learned of a friend's difficult battle with a amorphous disease barely recognized by the medical establishment.
Damn damn damn what the hell are we supposed to do?????
Will it never stop?
Earlier this week someone mentioned to me the Buddhist idea of "the second arrow". The idea was that we can't necessarily avoid the first arrow which is the the original wounding, the initial pain. But the second arrow is different.
Often it seems we wallow in our emotional reactions to that first arrow... "why me?"... "this is SO much trouble!"... "this is gonna ruin everything, dammit!"... "waaa boo hoo"... etc. This is the same as stabbing ourselves with a second arrow. AND news flash, this secondary suffering IS under our control. I really liked the arrow imagery. Yep, here I am walking around with a bunch of arrows hanging outta my body, dangling and wobbling with each step I take :) Why the hell would I wanna add to the collection?!
Coincidentally(?) this week I also stumbled upon a magazine article that spoke about strategies for dealing with pain. It contrasted distraction with mindfulness. It cited studies showing that distraction is the more effective strategy in the initial minutes of pain. However, it seems that mindfulness wins out in the end as the better coping strategy. The article concluded with a statement that was something like, when distraction fails, you are left with nothing. The implication was that mindfulness either did not fail or somehow didn't leave you with nothing. I found this very interesting. It seemed to me to speak a big truth.
Note: The scientist in me would really like to quote her sources accurately but I borrowed the magazine and it'd be alot of trouble to find it, and so I'll skip over that formality for now.
All this reminds me of a book I read last summer. OMG! NO! It was the summer before last, but it feels like yesterday :) The book was titled Sadomasochism in everyday life: the dynamics of power and powerlessness By Lynn S. Chancer. This book really opened my eyes. I've written about it several times online and spoken of it many many times in real life. And so why not once more?
The author spoke of the power dynamics not only between individuals, but also of those between various layers of society, business, and also nations. It seems the dynamic is the same, no matter who is playing the roles. Macro or micro, it doesn't matter. Power is paired with powerlessness all around us. Not surprisingly the party positioned masochistically, the powerless one, can get tired of the pain. Ultimately though there are always consequences whenever the masochist attempts to change the dynamic. And it is through through these gyrations of confronting these consequences, that eventually the masochist grows stronger and broader, more diverse, more adaptable, more able to cope with a variety of pressures. It would seem then that the masochist is mindful, unable to ignore the burden being placed, akiinda forced mindfulness, I suppose. Correspondingly, the sadist grows weaker and more limited, forever distracted and distanced from from 'the burden' (which is being carried by the other). In the end the only party capable of truly changing or upsetting the dynamic is the one positioned masochistically. The question is - does the dynamic flip, like a see-saw? Or can both parties move towards the middle?
Call me crazy but I think this issue of pain and suffering, this big time real world stuff, the mental and physical dis-ease that we all struggle with, fits the dynamics above. Life is a balance forever being negotiated, between our Souls and the Universe. Struggle, the second arrow, our work at distraction, only binds the fetters tighter. It's not really a win-win proposition, and frankly never really was.
An oddball shoulder pain this summer, came and went for a while, and then turned back up this fall and taking over my life through the heart of winter. She is back in her cage now but not fully tamed. I've hope that by the time spring bursts, she'll be a long gone memory. But well, you just never know. This body gets older everyday and things don't always bounce back like they used to anymore. I'm not sure when that day is gonna come when what got pushed outta shape never rebounds. I fear it is just around the corner; OR, shit! who knows! maybe it was yesterday and only time will tell. Like menopause, many things are defined in retrospect.
I recall during my mother's last few years, her psychiatrist several times likening her psyche to a rubber band that had been stretched one too many times. I think my psyche is strong and flourishing, but the jury is still out on my physical body. And that uncertainty weighs heavyily.
I watched my brother-in-law and my cat die slowly this winter (yes, I said cat, yes, "just" a pet. He and his suffering btw count just as much in my book as any other :) For the past year my husband has struggled with an auto-immune disease that attacks muscle fiber. Also this week I learned of a friend's difficult battle with a amorphous disease barely recognized by the medical establishment.
Damn damn damn what the hell are we supposed to do?????
Will it never stop?
Earlier this week someone mentioned to me the Buddhist idea of "the second arrow". The idea was that we can't necessarily avoid the first arrow which is the the original wounding, the initial pain. But the second arrow is different.
Often it seems we wallow in our emotional reactions to that first arrow... "why me?"... "this is SO much trouble!"... "this is gonna ruin everything, dammit!"... "waaa boo hoo"... etc. This is the same as stabbing ourselves with a second arrow. AND news flash, this secondary suffering IS under our control. I really liked the arrow imagery. Yep, here I am walking around with a bunch of arrows hanging outta my body, dangling and wobbling with each step I take :) Why the hell would I wanna add to the collection?!
Coincidentally(?) this week I also stumbled upon a magazine article that spoke about strategies for dealing with pain. It contrasted distraction with mindfulness. It cited studies showing that distraction is the more effective strategy in the initial minutes of pain. However, it seems that mindfulness wins out in the end as the better coping strategy. The article concluded with a statement that was something like, when distraction fails, you are left with nothing. The implication was that mindfulness either did not fail or somehow didn't leave you with nothing. I found this very interesting. It seemed to me to speak a big truth.
Note: The scientist in me would really like to quote her sources accurately but I borrowed the magazine and it'd be alot of trouble to find it, and so I'll skip over that formality for now.
All this reminds me of a book I read last summer. OMG! NO! It was the summer before last, but it feels like yesterday :) The book was titled Sadomasochism in everyday life: the dynamics of power and powerlessness By Lynn S. Chancer. This book really opened my eyes. I've written about it several times online and spoken of it many many times in real life. And so why not once more?
The author spoke of the power dynamics not only between individuals, but also of those between various layers of society, business, and also nations. It seems the dynamic is the same, no matter who is playing the roles. Macro or micro, it doesn't matter. Power is paired with powerlessness all around us. Not surprisingly the party positioned masochistically, the powerless one, can get tired of the pain. Ultimately though there are always consequences whenever the masochist attempts to change the dynamic. And it is through through these gyrations of confronting these consequences, that eventually the masochist grows stronger and broader, more diverse, more adaptable, more able to cope with a variety of pressures. It would seem then that the masochist is mindful, unable to ignore the burden being placed, akiinda forced mindfulness, I suppose. Correspondingly, the sadist grows weaker and more limited, forever distracted and distanced from from 'the burden' (which is being carried by the other). In the end the only party capable of truly changing or upsetting the dynamic is the one positioned masochistically. The question is - does the dynamic flip, like a see-saw? Or can both parties move towards the middle?
Call me crazy but I think this issue of pain and suffering, this big time real world stuff, the mental and physical dis-ease that we all struggle with, fits the dynamics above. Life is a balance forever being negotiated, between our Souls and the Universe. Struggle, the second arrow, our work at distraction, only binds the fetters tighter. It's not really a win-win proposition, and frankly never really was.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
how is it that I used to hate poetry?
The Guest House
Rumi
This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each one has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
(The Essential Rumi, Coleman Barks translation, 1995)
Rumi
This being human is a guest house
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each one has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
(The Essential Rumi, Coleman Barks translation, 1995)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
planting tulips freezing fingers
I've always been an optomist
hang in there
keep trying
it'll all work out, you know it will
but sometimes all forward movement stops, joints ache, and I wonder if maybe
the cold and the dark will never end,
feeling the years piled high, this dead of winter
uninvited guest threatens to stay
but then an energy comes, like today
and I can almost touch all my desires, every single one
the yearnings no longer torture, the world is possibility made tangible
there is movement inside my chest
trudge on has morphed to delighted blossoming
the busy bee noses into all it sees
you see I'd had to continue, there's never been any other choice for me
now hoping pretending believing eternally
I come thankful for this day, for the gifts of lightness
for balance
brings truth bittersweet
the failures and sloth belong
to the core, walk hand in hand with confidence
prior impotences are never entirely forgotten
the quicksand though vanished has perpetual potential
some part of me knows
this sea change did not originate within me from my efforts
the seasons pass
I quench my thirst with a half a glass
hang in there
keep trying
it'll all work out, you know it will
but sometimes all forward movement stops, joints ache, and I wonder if maybe
the cold and the dark will never end,
feeling the years piled high, this dead of winter
uninvited guest threatens to stay
but then an energy comes, like today
and I can almost touch all my desires, every single one
the yearnings no longer torture, the world is possibility made tangible
there is movement inside my chest
trudge on has morphed to delighted blossoming
the busy bee noses into all it sees
you see I'd had to continue, there's never been any other choice for me
now hoping pretending believing eternally
I come thankful for this day, for the gifts of lightness
for balance
brings truth bittersweet
the failures and sloth belong
to the core, walk hand in hand with confidence
prior impotences are never entirely forgotten
the quicksand though vanished has perpetual potential
some part of me knows
this sea change did not originate within me from my efforts
the seasons pass
I quench my thirst with a half a glass
Sunday, January 23, 2011
a bumper sticker moment
driving home from the grocery store
having bought dry ice
to save the food in the dying frig
(second one this year \o.0/)
earbuds in
getting psyched for the concert tonight
(car stereo's busted, again)
traffic light
I notice the car in front of me
small bumper sticker
faith:verb
while linkin park screams
"I won't waste myself on you"
Ah! so perfect :)
Thank You! Universe
your timing was exquisite, as always
having bought dry ice
to save the food in the dying frig
(second one this year \o.0/)
earbuds in
getting psyched for the concert tonight
(car stereo's busted, again)
traffic light
I notice the car in front of me
small bumper sticker
faith:verb
while linkin park screams
"I won't waste myself on you"
Ah! so perfect :)
Thank You! Universe
your timing was exquisite, as always
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Maker of All Things, Even Healings
(Mary Oliver, Red Bird)
All night
under the pines
the fox
moves through the darkness
with a mouthful of teeth
and a reputation for death
which it deserves.
In the spicy
villages of mice
he is famous,
his nose
in the grass
is like an earthquake,
his feet
on the path
is a message so absolute
that the mouse, hearing it,
makes himself
as small as he can
as he sits silent
or, trembling, goes on
hunting among tthe grasses
for the ripe seeds.
Maker of All things
including appetite,
including stealth,
including the fear that makes
all of us, sometime or other,
flee for the sake
of our small and precious lives,
let me abide in your shadow --
let me hold on
to the edge of your robe
as you determine
what you must let be lost
and what will be saved.
(Mary Oliver, Red Bird)
All night
under the pines
the fox
moves through the darkness
with a mouthful of teeth
and a reputation for death
which it deserves.
In the spicy
villages of mice
he is famous,
his nose
in the grass
is like an earthquake,
his feet
on the path
is a message so absolute
that the mouse, hearing it,
makes himself
as small as he can
as he sits silent
or, trembling, goes on
hunting among tthe grasses
for the ripe seeds.
Maker of All things
including appetite,
including stealth,
including the fear that makes
all of us, sometime or other,
flee for the sake
of our small and precious lives,
let me abide in your shadow --
let me hold on
to the edge of your robe
as you determine
what you must let be lost
and what will be saved.
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