Monday, September 14, 2009

What would you tell a 10-year-old about being in love? (8/13/09)

It's important to always be completely and totally honest in love no matter
what. Always be 100% yourself.

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The heart hurts a lot and this hurt deepens the spirit..it's like eating a lot m and m's and then feeling like you ate too much

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Enjoy it the feelings for they are beautiful.

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U g0t many fish in da sea.

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As soon as you stop looking for it, you find it.
The less you try to figure it out, the more you understand.
It's easier than they say, but not like in the movies.
Let's go climb a tree.

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Take it when and where you can get it 'cos true love doesn't come around all that often.

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Being in love is like being drunk on hormones and feelings. It makes you say and do thing you never have before. Sometimes it affects your judgment and makes you want to do things that might not be safe or smart. And it can stretch your heart in ways that confuse you and scare you, but it also feels so wonderful that you love anyway. But you get too confused or too hurt, you should talk to an adult you can trust. Because real love doesn't mean hurting on purpose. And if you hurt more often than you feel good...that's a really bad sign.

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you should have the V8 instead......

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It's the icing on the cake to a life of service and creativity. It's fun but it can be like a drug and you can abuse it. It's a great feeling but sometimes it turns into something deeper and sometimes it just disappears, and there are steps along the way to insure that it doesn't disappear. OK, maybe the last one was too much for a 10-yr-old, but the wisdom seeps in with repetition.

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True love is not critical or harmful. It is accepting and open to you despite your faults. True love does not require any thing, it is not controlling, needy or possessive: it just is because it is not an exterior fulfillment, it is internal and unlimited. Love because one cannot help but love. Love because it is love the way that they are and feel, and it is an action. One can know one is loved by the action of it. Never settle for less if the action of love is absent. Real love attracts real love...it is opening and it takes many many different forms through out life. It is o.k. to love a person even if they do not love you, because love requires nothing in return. Yet love the self enough to care to put oneself around the experience of others who care and love deeply, truly and openly...these are good partners to form lasting friendships and families with. If you are heart broken from a love that does not return or love fully, do not react to it even though you will. Understand that, your anger will not change that you love, your rage will not empower you to not love, your sadness will not leave you powerless to the person, love is. It is ultimate and it is perfect the way it is and does not require your control over it's mystery and way.

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That it will make you feel crazy. Because no matter what your beloved does, you cannot stop loving them. If you trust your heart to someone who wants to take care of it, you'll be okay. But if you trust your heart to someone who is only watching out for their own, you will be in trouble.

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I'm probably not the best person to tell anyone about being in love. When my heart was broken over a badly-ended relationship, when I was in my mid-twenties, I made an unconscious decision to never let myself get hurt like that again. Consequently, I never fell in love again. I have tried to undo that decision, but to no avail.

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Its nice to be in love, it feels good.

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Wait until you are 35!!

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That it is easy

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to space time with land, wait until the air perfects itself, don't introduce that love to an older man and don't get beyond 16 in years.

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I had two boys and, at 10 years old, the subject never even came close. Besides, their mother and I were separating and being in love was not the operative condition. If a 10 year old child asked me about being in love, which is where I'm assuming this question comes from, I would probably say it's like a really strong friendship and you know it will last a long time, maybe forever. That's the way it started out for me and I still wish it could have ended that way. Oh, well.

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I haven't had much success with romantic love but ... I would say being in love is inspiring and strengthening, yet also requires unselfishness and foresight to give yourself over to another, to accept your lover for who they are - to see them - and to release your ego into something great. And being in love makes you want to face any challenge and to work at it, at life, to sustain that passion.

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Look, kid, I'm seeing your mom and you're just going to have to get used to it.

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And mine...

It's really fun when you go slowly. That way it won't rattle your heart.

Monday, August 31, 2009

How do you help? (8/31/09)

I help the w0rld bi listenin all dif walkz 0f life. Bein there 4 friendz. sm0kin bud wit ppl.

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I'm a sixth grade teacher here in the city. I think if I typed out all the ways I help it would bore and exhaust everyone including me, as it is kinda sorta a helping profession. suffice it to say, i'm trying my damnedest to bring positive change to the world, one sassy middle school kid at a time.

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I would hope that just listening, offering a shoulder to lean on or simply offering a hand to help would be my contribution.

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I volunteer at St. Luke's Emergency Dept.

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I clear the table and do the dishes.

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lately I feel like I've been on the helpee side of things. today I was grateful for the help that was so generously given to me. I am amazed by the people in my life, some who only know me through shared communities. Today someone reached out and generously gave of his time and expertise to help me through.

In my profession I am the helper. I help by creating a safe space where people can talk through their feelings and know they are being received without judgment.

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by saying hello to strangers with a warm smile
by staying focused on calming and centering myself
by allowing others to be who they are

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H0w d0 i help? It dpen 0n witch way n wh0 im helpin. i d0ne thingz like giv cl0thes 0ff my back, da last 0f my f00d 0r kash 2 s0me1. It dpen 0n wh0 n m

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It dpen 0n wh0, why n my mood.

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Listen first.
Consider the tenets of the Serenity Prayer and take actions as appropriate to that analysis.
Make sure I consider the "end game."
Reapply the Serenity Prayer as needed.

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In a variety of ways:

I listen.

I remind him of all the ways he has showed up.

I bring the lube and the restraints.

And I organize the Food Drive.

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By standing. I have discovered over the years that if you avoid sitting while others are working, you appear to be helping even if you're not actually doing much in the way of work.

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I start each day asking God to help me get out of my way so he can use me to do his work.....

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Listening. I am a "yes" person. I am recovering from that. I have found that I am most helpful when I am not over committed and stressed out. It is best to be completely present to what ever circumstance, action, person or event calls for. Self care is helpful in caring for others. Taking responsibility, being kind, listening fully with intention to the place and needs of others while caring for oneself.

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However I can. Asking for help has always been difficult for me, but I've learned that helping someone else makes me feel good about myself, so I step in when help is requested - to the best of my ability, anyway. Sometimes I ask someone if they need, or would like some, help, and then follow their lead.

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I don't. Every time I try to do anything helpful, act in a positive way, attempt to engage and take anything ahead a step, everything turns to shit: I am the schlamiel AND the schlamazel.

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By consciously wanting to - and trying - at times, whether with sympathy, heart or mind.

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I help moms with strollers get up the subway steps, stop my car to let pedestrians cross when I don’t have to, give rides to old ladies when I see them at the bus stop with groceries…stuff like that. I love it! What I love most, though, is helping my mom care for my dad. She’s so much fun to be with.

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By staying out of the way as much as possible and letting things work themselves out. I try to get involved only when someone asks me specifically. Except, of course, with my kids who think they can do everything without me.

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If you feed me I will do the dishes. I do volunteer work as well as service in recovery. And I learned how to keep my mouth shut.

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And mine...

I listen. I tell the truth as I experience it.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

What makes you feel welcome? (8/23/09)

Hot tea.

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honesty

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A warm smile

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being offered a cup of tea.

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I can see it in a person's eyes.......

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In someone's home: The smell of fresh coffee brewing, open books, couch throws, laughter, furniture meant to put your feet up on, and a little bit of life mess. (Why have we been taught to clean our homes obsessively to the point of sterile before entertaining?)
In a social setting: a warm hug and introductions

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Every day, when I get home from work, the cats are waiting for me. They are the first - and most enthusiastic - to welcome me home.

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Informality.

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It's funny, that one is so simple but these days, sadly, it seems a bit rare. I feel welcome when someone smiles and / or just says hi.

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roses and hellos so long's and ashes.

family always. weddings, often, funerals, sadly apart of.

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a warm smile, bright eyes, happiness to see me

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When I go to my sister's house to visit my nieces, ages two and four. They literally run around in circles screaming with excitement when I arrive. Doesn't get much better than that!

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no judgements
no criticism
good food
good music
humor
nice lightening
cushions

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A warm smile, a good hug or handshake ... introduction to others.

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I feel welcome in a home when I'm "part of the furniture" as they say in France. My host is happy to have me there and I'm not increasing their level of stress.

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when $20 bills float all around me so that i can buy drugs and keep the proper commerce in placce.

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A big wrinkly smile on my friend's face. A nice hot cup of tea.

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A meaningful smile

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A big sincere smile and a warm hug.

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I can't really pinpoint what it is, It's just a certain feeling I get when I meet someone. I don't always get it, but I trust the feeling. It tells me all I need to know about people, and has not failed me yet!

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my sponsor. she always offers me tea and has a cozy couch I can sink into when I talk.

my therapist. just having a space that's all about me, and a box of tissue.

when someone listens, and doesn't wait to talk. when they give me space to talk things through outloud in my own rambling tangential way.

when someone puts fresh sheets on the bed for me.

when my mom buys groceries that I like when I come to visit

when someone opens the door, smiles, and hugs me and tells me how glad they are to see me

when someone says thank you, and means it.

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When people write back to me and share their feelings with me

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A smile

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Big hugs.

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Unless a situation is especially effusive in affection or conversely agitation, I would generally say it mainly depends on how I feel on any given moment.

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Mostly, I guess, recognition. Someone who knows more than just casually and has accepted my existence without prejudice or expectation. Kids are good for that, old friends, really old friends whom I don't see as often, even proprietors of establishments that I have frequented over a long period of time - my dentist is one such person - and we've become friends over the years. I wish the same could be said about my ex-wife with whom I still share custody of two teenagers, but it just may not be in the cards... too much tension there.

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My ex-girlfriend used to wait for me as I climbed the stairs. She'd smile and do a little jig -- every time -- right till the end.

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And mine...

When my sister or brother in law answers the door and they greet me with a hug and a smile. When my niece greets me at the door with a jiggling "Aunt Joce is here" happy dance. A sincere smile.

When he tells me how great I look. 'Course that makes me feel LOTS of things...

Monday, August 17, 2009

What gives you butterflies? (8/16/09)

Feelin s0me1 warm energy.

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This guy that I have a crush on......;) (sigh)

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performing on stage, doing something I don't want to do

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Not much lately. It's usually a phenomena I only experience at the start of a relationship.

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Cliffs, the views from the top of the tall buildings, asking for a first date, and stepping on stage to perform in front of an audience.

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A telephone call from my ex-wife (bad butterflies).
A very nice sexy-looking lady (good butterflies).

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I'm 55 years old. I stopped getting butterflies when I was about 26. I really don't think I'm missing out on anything, either.

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Public speaking...that moment right before I am going to teach a class...

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[my son] says: before soccer game, briefly

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Talking to a crush.

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Being around my teacher. Relating to someone I'm attracted to. The dharma.

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My cacoons made of fear! Something beautiful always surprises me when the fear cacoons finally open and I get to see something really cool come out of them.

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How do you tell someone you love them?
It seems quite easy really; you simply
stand before the beloved, and
become transparent to the moment,
open your mouth and exhale your soul.

Three little words, a perfect equation:
you and I conjoined by a verb.
Three little words and you would think
they could seed vast golden fields
for one with the special gift for words.

But for some they are like the burdens
of the damned in Tartarus, those words.

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Well there are good butterflies and bad butterlies (moths maybe, hee hee). The good butterflies: going on the upswing of a roller coaster, talking about getting married, starting my doctoral program, the scientist meetings for my Fellowship.
Moths: school bills, hurricane season is upon us ( I live in New Orleans), WTF to do with my 401K, niece walking home from school for the first time without an adult (she'll be with a friend, but two 9 year olds do not equal one capable adult brain or physical strength), my boyfriend's back and hip pain.

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Lately it's thinking about primitive yet sensual sex like being worshiped and dominated in the same breath down sucking and fucking with a fixated intensity on souls: lending itself to nearly obsessive but not impulsive intimacy. and then also kissing innocently. which also makes me nostalgic, dammit.

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Fear and excitement. My body has the same chemical reaction to both of those emotions, although excitement has a much happier slant to it than fear does.

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girls!

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Performing in front of a crowd, still.
Talking to a woman whom I find attractive, still - in my 50s.

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When we're laying in bed at 5 AM telling each other stories and I think of how lucky I am to get to see him at his most comfortable, most open times. When I realize that this frustrating, young guy may be the one for me even if we're not at that point where we are right for each other. The thought that someday we'll know who the other is, and look at each other and smile in a bed that belongs to both of us.

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men

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my girlfriend. every time I look at her I feel all shy and get butterflies in my tummy.

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Caterpillars, silly!

Tummy butterflies hatch from excitement of performing before a large audience, job interviews for jobs I actually want, skiing new terrain or under harsh conditions (icy, for instance). I've had butterflies for hours skiing ungroomed steeps. Experience is the best cure for butterflies, but I rather enjoy having them now and again.

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The beginning of a new chapter in life...


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knowing that someday in the future i have to return to my distant wife renewed and fall in love again holding a secret that we had to keep from everyone so that the love we fall into Works. something like that. and knowing about what life with kids will be like without the constancy of authority.

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A few things come to mind ...

A first date/approaching a cute/hot woman.

A job interview.

Getting feedback on my writing.

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Momma and Poppa Butterfly.

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And mine...

Dating
Diarrhea
Roller coasters

If you've ever seen a dead body in person, what was your reaction? (8/9/09)

Bummed.

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Right away my own mortality became evident. I was no longer the youth immortal. Things that were once thrilling became pointless: homework and math were always pointless but popularity and school dances or activites seemed pointless, too. I wrote poems, plays and short stories about this death, became a bit obsessed with death...not like a goth but like that neurotic Woody Allen...I even had an older friend who reminded me a lot of Woody Allen, who was an official professional writer and he would get stoned as he wrote and we would talk about life or lack of life together until one day he turned to me and reccomended therapy (some thing he would never usually recommend.) My twenties progressed, (survived my teens some how) more people passed along as we all will, I looked at my inevitability and decided that the answer was some where in the "tropic's of cancer" which basically meant, be as lushy as one can, drink as much wine eat decadent food and fall in love often...but then I got lost on that road and ended up very confused so I do not recommend desire as an answer to end. It's boring and more people tend to die around an experience junkie then the company kept in say, a yoga class. (mental note for reference in passing relationships in addition.) So running was not the answer to death or even big changes. Near mid twenties. Acceptance. I hate to be a quoter but Tom Robbins just captures it brilliantly in his novel: "fierce invalids home from hot climates": "Accept that your a pimple on the ass end of creation," (which if the world keeps destroying the earth face it folks, we are, we are.) but my favorite quote is by Echart Tolle, and he says this: (and I follow my heroes on how to handle death these days since god knows my best thinking get's me closer to it then I would like to admit) "I am not clairvoyant but I can tell you that all of you will be walking around for a few more years and then you will be dead." So enjoy life accepting endings and death by appreciating it with gratitude, humble acceptance because it is all apart of nature, it is all what is and the moment we see a dead body and think that that is not apart of our reading rainbow conditioning, fuck it. it comes with the world people. It is every where and of us: love and loss. I've seen dead bodies. Nothing like seeing a person walking around dead inside for fear of end.

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It was my lack of reaction. It wasn't as scarey or as upsetting as I thought it would be......

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Sadness.

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I actually saw a number of dead bodies on Saturday. It was pretty neat.

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I've seen a good number, both laid out on purpose or suddenly there, and have had many reactions. Now I see a corpse as an empty vessel from which the magic has dissipated and wish more people would allow the harvesting of their own.

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It was a little glimpse into the emptiness of everything. At one time that body was totally animated, living a life filled with activities, loved ones, emotions, the pain and joy of experiencing life, and now it's... nothing. Sad for the life it lived, but also, whatever animated that body is just no longer there. It just is what it is. Same with anything else we experience - whatever we put into it is what animates it. So without whatever anger or depression or grasping we experience in a situation, it just is what it is. Trippy.

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When my mother passed, I noticed that her fear and anxiety were no longer expressed in her face. She was free at last from her torturer. I felt such a sense of relief myself.

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Bye Mom.

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Yes. a few timez. everythng frm sexaul thngz kind fresh n 0ld az durt 2 cleanin at nursein h0me.

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In African-American Culture open casket funerals are the norm so growing up whenever we went to a funeral we had to do the whole "viewing of the body" thing. The first time I think it was my great uncle's funeral. i remember noting that it looked like a slightly grayer, slack-cheeked, waxy version of himself.
Last year when a younger very close friend of mine died they had decided on an open casket. His mom called me the moring of and told me that she really didn't want to have the casket open at all. She warned me to brace myself because he didn't look like the handsome man that he was at all. I decided not to do the viewing thing because it was too hard. I caught a glimpse before they closed the casket. I'm still sorry I looked.

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My mother and I had been keeping watch over my father in the hospital for days. I wanted to make sure that he was not alone when he died, but with just the two of us taking regular shifts it was hard to make sure there was someone with him round the clock.

He left one morning on Mother's Day at around six a.m. when no one was there. I drove over to Calvary in the Bronx at around eight o'clock. When I entered the room it was obvious that he was already long gone, there was clearly no longer any spirit residing in that body. But I was surprised at how beautiful he looked, and how strange and different his body was with no life in it. His eyes were closed and his face was frozen in whatever that last moment had been for him. There was something seemed strong and regal about the body in that bed. There was a profound sense of stillness. This vessel that had served him reasonably well for most of his sixty-three years looked like some beautiful shell that had been left behind; an elaborate cocoon, or some alien spaceship he had been driving around in, now abandoned since it was no longer needed. The sight of it filled me with awe and felt sacred.

The funeral home talked us into embalming him, which in retrospect was a silly thing to do for a closed casket funeral. At the service my mother and I viewed his body one last time. His face was caked up in an effort to make him seem more familiar to us, but it looked pointlessly artificial. He was wearing a fine suit I had never remembered seeing him in, but his body looked small and crumpled in the casket. They had gone to great lengths to make him appear as if he was still just like us, but the result only served to confuse. What I had previously seen that morning in the hospital bed had told me he that he was truly departed, and that something mysterious, natural and maybe even wonderful had happened. Remembering the beauty of that unaltered body brings me far more comfort today.

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Devastation. He was a senior in my high school and died in a car accident. It was an open casket. I regretted looking at him because I wanted to remember him as vibrant...his body looked nothing like him...

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I used to work in an emergency room, and my mother was a hospice nurse when I was growing up, and I work a lot with sick/dying animals, so I have seen more than my fair share of dead beings. One thing that always strikes me is how limp they are (at first), how like a deflated balloon. It's like life is almost literally what inflates them. The second thing is what a shell the physical body is. It really is just a container for the soul. To me, the body doesn't even look the same after death, it's just a husk.

I know it sounds weird, but I always feel a sense of relief - most of the dead creatures/humans I see were suffering very much before they passed, and I feel this relief that they don't have to be in physical pain anymore. I feel very compassionate towards the dead, and I hope that after leaving their bodies they are off to a more wonderful adventure. The physical remains don't distress me, it's just what's left behind. Discarded luggage not needed on the trip of a lifetime.

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Deep sadness. I was in my 20s when I saw my grandmother in her casket, and in my 60s when I saw my mother prior to her cremation. It was difficult losing both of these women who had such influence in my life. My grandmother looked healthier than she had in a long time due to the cosmetics work done by the mortuary. My mother looked much more "normal" because she was not made-up prior to being cremated (she seldom wore make-up). I realized in both cases that what made these women who they were was no longer there with them. Their bodies were empty shells.

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Post Mortem, September 12th 2003

Skin gone cold and white goes smooth.
That surprised me, how smooth it became.
What had been creased with ruts of time
became smooth as highly polished stone,
almost translucent, but where blood pooled.
The nature of water, this guise of gravity:
on hip and shoulder, elbow and knee bruises
blossomed like tentacles of purple anemone.
And the skin became as frigid as alabaster,
but not so rigid, even after rigor, that age
long before the flesh drips from the bone.
Never I had been this close to death before.
Never before had I held it by its new glove
and called it by the name of one I loved.

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'then why did you ask?'

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I've seen too many dead bodies to count. My first one would have been my grandmother in her coffin. I was pretty shocked and numb when I saw her. The next was a woman's body that was being used for a human dissection class. That one was much more disturbing. I remember dissecting her hands and examining the tendons in there, then going home and freaking out in the shower, thinking about what lies beneath my skin as I ran the washcloth over my arms. I didn't like how disturbed I felt, so I stopped going to the class. Now, when I see dead bodies (that I'm no longer dissecting), I feel a certain deep inner peace simultaneously to feeling just a wee bit spooked.

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peace, because in this case the end had been peaceful, i was in the room for her last breath, and she was ready, at 80, to move on.

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First dead body I saw (besides in a casket) was my mom. I was 23, she was 46. She had a massive stroke that in a few days left her brain dead. I sat with her when the respirator was turned off and watched her body stop functioning. She was already dead in every other way. Witness that process, that it was clear her spirit had already left and the machines were just sustaining a sack of tissue. I was stunned that there was no sign of struggle. I was sad that I missed seeing her spirit released from this world.

Since then, most of the bodies I have seen were through my work in law enforcement. I took a death investigation course with the county coroner. My main reaction was clinical detachment with a small degree of horror at what a body can be put through. I don't believe life begins or ends with a sack of tissue. That spirit/energy comes from and is released to the Universe and made into somthing else. So, I guess my reaction to seeing death was to free me of the fear of it.

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And mine...

Father: Same things I felt when he was alive.

Person dead on the side of the road last Sunday when I was riding my bike home: Deep grief. I got off my bike to pray for him, but I was really praying for me.

How do you know when you've had enough? (8/2/09)

The body tells me....." Turn off the computer and go to BED! " or
"No more sugar. feed me vegetables!"
"I need a bath now?"

or my emotions let me know: the floodgates open and the tears come rushing out!

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Vomit.

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I don't want anymore.

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When the supposedly closest person to you hits road and cops out.

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When my pants get to tight, when my blood pressure is through the roof, when I am in so much pain I have to do something different.........

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My guts tell me .... and the decision that enough is enough ... is clear and easy.

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Sadly, only when I am totally fu**ing miserable.

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My body usually tells me when. In ALL situations.

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Good question, it's sudden and unambiguous, usually after an extended internal struggle: that's it, kaputzky.

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when I stop

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When the pain outweighs the benefits

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When I start to cry in frustration.

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i start to become more and more irriated, resentful, and angry at my partner. i become less able to control my temper and i start to verbally lash out and critisize the other person. when my behavior beccomes this way, caustic and biting, i feel so much shame and sadness i realize the relationship can't continue. when i start acting in a way where i can't respect myself, i realize im no longer in a healthy place in my relationship and that ive had enough.

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when and enough and how tell you.
when says'do you'
how says 'don't'
and you say 'fuck, what am i doing with this? why do these people not, as are, come to my placce and discuss this out loud?
that, major dumbness, and dr. realtio will be there with me.
i can't ever have enough again.
'there are No More Authoorities Aloowed in My Mind'!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1
have you heard the 'evil one' who says that all are gay and yet, can't say?
(7ej2vl) x (7ej2vl)

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You may never know if you keep going back for more.

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OK> truthfully, I never do know. Life tells me for me.

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Sparks start flying out of my ears. Or that's what my friends tell me.

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When I start to throw up on the otherwise beautiful streets of life, thinking it really will be my fault if I continue with my present course of action.

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I walk into walls.

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Oh I'm the wrong person to ask. I can take a lot, usually of things that are bad for me.

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Either my brain stops functioning (this happens when I've worked too long at something), or my body rebels (as when I eat too much sugar). Sometimes I ignore the signs from my body and end up with a chocolate hang-over (which is just as painful as a regular hang-over).

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I know when I get the feeling of insincerity, and a very sharp pain in the back of my head saying, "THAT'S IT!!!"

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Excess usually has its telltale signs.

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I've had enough.

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My stomach is my Geiger counter of enough...food, aggravation, worry, obsession, heartache.

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Every time i think i've had enough her hand reaches in, grabs my heart and squeezes, wringing another ocean of pain and remorse from it. So it doesn't seem to be a matter of me deciding when enough is enough, of how long my penance has to last.

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The Hagen Daz container is empty.

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And mine...

I can't stop crying.
I realize my shoulders are up around my ears.
I am bleary-eyed.
Someone calls red.
I can't let anyone touch me.
The food bowl is empty.

How do you grieve? (7/26/09)

I rage. I sob. I write poems of the Wounded God. I used to be quiet. I will never be silent again.

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Sad songs and a box of kleenex

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I stuff down the emotion of sadness and then let it come out in anger/control somewhere else that is usually sort of inappropriate for that situation. I got my dad's death stuffed down there so far, its coming out all over the place, but usually when I drive or deal with big institutions.

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I cry a lot. I write letters that will never be sent. I write poetry. I think too much about what I could have done differently, but that usually doesn't get me any where. I talk, sometimes to the right people, sometimes to the wrong people. I blunder my way through the pain until I wake up one day and its not the first thing I think about. Having been through the process many times now, I recognize the odd fact that this too will fade into the past as the rest of life ambles along relentlessly, requiring more and more of my attention. The grief eventually gets less and less attention. Then it is residual in the form of a photograph or a song or a faint, lingering, familiar and pleasant odor left on a garment or the memory of a purchase together or the color of a gift that was given. And then the grief is gone and these things are just things and, in a way - gratefully, nothing more. Memories fade and life swells, requiring that you move on. Well, its never easy or quick, but pretty much follows that path for me.

If I may say: It is somehow very precious to grieve, to have your heart be so incredibly broken. The thoughts and feelings during grief eventually become bare-bones honest and some of the most meaningful you might ever experience. Embrace it and learn from it. Don't worry, the numbing facts of reality will slip back into your life quick enough, so don't rush the process.

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my best friend from childhood and teens' Dad just passed away.... I did my run to the beach as usual , but this time took a break and cried. Straightforward and age-old way to grieve.

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by talking to my close friends. by sleeping. a lot. by crying. a lot. it helps to accept it and then let it all out. it makes it easier to let go

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slowly........painfully.......with help from loved ones......

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Internally--unfortunately for me. I often wish I weren't so afraid of crying and otherwise letting my grief express itself outwardly.

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Depends on what the loss is. As an empty-nester mom, I grieve the loss of a close bond with my sons through awareness and acceptance. I am sad sometimes. I even allow a glint of bitterness here and there, and then I move ahead in my own life. The death of my dog, I cried almost unconsolably, off and on, for 3 days. And then allowed myself to miss her. Three years later, I just now got a puppy and wonder often WTF was I thinking. So, I try to feel emotions appropriate to the loss and avoid "replacements" until a suitable time has passed. I replaced my sons with dating and ended up with a new husband. Some losses are much more cut and dried. Parents are dead. Dog is dead. Not much you can do about that. I think part of daily living is to touch upon the grief of changes that engender loss.

I am strengthened by the Native American approach of acknowledging the connectedness of all things and the beauty and reality of ever present cycles (nature, seasons, birth/death, sunrise/sunset, inhale/exhale, plant/harvest, conception/birth.) I try to not avoid grieving over much things which have had their full "season" and have more sadness for those thing that are interrupted. Then I accept that that, too, is part of the cycle. I do not feed myself the soft comfort foods of denial and magical thinking.

We were driving past a large and impressive cemetery a few weeks ago. My 4 yr. old grandson piped up from the back seat, "Gramma, is that heaven?"

"No, Hunter. That place is called a cemetery." And I offer a brief explanation of the purpose they serve.

"But it has to be heaven, Gramma, because that where you go when you die. And when you die, you go to heaven."

I got the chance to explain to him that heaven is just what some people believe. There are other people, like me, who believe that when you die your life energy is just freed into the world. Since everything dies eventually, the energy just keeps moving. Death is naturual and how it is supposed to be. He was 100% calm and cool about that. He didn't freak out to learn that dying HAPPENS. I didn't need to feed him another Santa Clause scheme to protect him from reality. We talked about being sad for awhile when I die and when poppy dies and his dog dies. And, it was like...ok. Can we go to the beach.

My mottos: No boxes for me. Death is not a failure. Go with the flow. No false platitudes. Acceptance.

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Very physically. My lupus flares up, I have seizures. When my oldest friend killed himself a few years ago I was in bed for months and in horrible pain. I was slapped and screamed at every time I cried as a child, so I have come to hide all outward manifestations of grief, and instead they literally become physical. It's something I've never been able to work through.

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In my own way and time, just like everyone else.

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The biggest loss in my life in terms of death was my Aunt Kattie, my godmother, who died 18 years ago. She was a glamour gal who came of age in the ‘40s, and was such a character. Not once in her life did she sit in the sun or wear pants. And wherever she went, she always wore her Jackie O sunglasses (that she got in Rite-Aid).

I suppose I’ve never stopped grieving for her. When we cleared out her house, I took a lot of her over-the-top decorations, like a frilly mirror and this pixie sculpture that protrudes from the wall. You’d really have to see it to believe it.

How I miss her.

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Depends on who it is for. This last week brought out a lot of old connections and a get-together for me with other grieving former students of our beloved teacher, Frank McCourt. We sang the songs and told the stories he taught us, and we told stories of our own.

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Interesting you ask. We are nearing the anniversary of the death of a friend who had died quite unexpectantly last year. How did I grieve. I was pretty much usless and in shock, then extremely horny for some reason! I guess its the body's way of dulling the pain. I slept at odd hours, cried, got mad, and surrounded myself only with close friends. It was weird though, some people I didn't want to see at all, some people I couldn't see enough of, most of the time I didn't want to pick up the phone. I think once we loose someone very close, without warrant or reason, a part of us never stops grieving.

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The old classics: crying, writing, eulogizing, and blessing whatever I
learned from the loss, whether it's a death, a breakup, leaving a job,
leaving a home, etc. And I have experienced all of these recently, so
I can say with some assurance that the old classics still work.

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Isolate, spend, eat, sleep, and occasionally share my experiences.

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I've been masturbating a lot. But I think that has more to do with what I'm grieving.

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With tears and gentleness.
I also use my healing modality to open me to the grief when I can't get to it alone.

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Privately

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being kind to myself by nurturing and caring for my body and getting plenty of sleep. taking luxurious alone time. crying as much as i need to. doing buddhist practices, continuing to move forward and never shutting down.

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Behind closed doors when I can.

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By escaping. When my dad died, my brothers and I were devastated. On the day of his funeral, we went go-karting afterward (which my father would have loved, had he known about it). When I had a miscarriage, my husband and I decided to leave town for a few days, not tell anyone, and spend the time at Disneyland. I don't know that any of this eased the pain I was experiencing, but it did allow me to spend those difficult times with loved ones who were also grieving for the same loss, in a non-destructive way.

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With tears, acceptance, honesty and positivity. I do not isolate. It is so important to not let any outcome or event or difference effect or take away one's ability to love and be open to life. In the movie, "under the Tuscan sun" a character describes it as: "never lose your childhood innocence." and what I think she means by that, is: grieve yes. Grieve with the experiences of our lives and yet, do not let those experiences so harden us that we are defined by our grieving and not available to happiness and life.

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Avoidance. Then for realz I cry, scream (esp if in a car alone on the freeway for example), get angry, journal, watching movies, crying some more, prayer. I ought to add meditation to that formula, too...

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I grieve loud and long and wet. Then I go to the AIDS Memorial Grove and sit in the curved circle and read the names of all the people who were loved and who died and who are remembered. Then I walk through the park and weep some more. Sooner or later I wind up at the beach in Half Moon Bay and begin making my peace with God. Eventually I do formalized sitting and grief work at the Zen Hospice Project on Paige at Laguna. For my father, I planted a tree. I love to go there and spend time with him.

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I try to do it quickly and to myself, as to help others grieve.

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silence
pawing at distractions
wandering
delaying the feeling like searching
for
misplaced glasses

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Deeply and long. I often wear my grief for the world to see; my emotions are usually evident to anyone with working eyes.

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Not very well, in my own estimation. But if I've learned anything at all about grieving, it's this:

Leave space for feelings to come up and don't be disappointed, or judge yoursef, if they fail to appear on schedule. The process will unfold in accordance with a logic that might not seem to make sense. Trying to push it or hold it back simply won't work.

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The classic psychology of Kubler-Ross describes the 5 stages of grief:
Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance
(See; "All That Jazz", or The Simpson's episode "One Fish, Two Fish, Blow-Fish, Blue Fish")
It seems that I personally tend to follow:
Denial, Anger, Depression, Denial
(I guess I should work on that)

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i watch people watch me grieve and wait for my experience of the 'grievance' to meet their apparent demand. on an internet that can also, with some payment, give yopu a child getting his head cut off. (probably too strong to the www)
oh, also on the www.grivethatheadofhis.com

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I sob upon hearing certain songs -- some country weepers, a few by Otis Redding, several Brian Wilson aching falsetto numbers. They open the flood gates of the lost childhood, the ex-girlfriend who won't/can't love me anymore, the terrible sadness of this wicked orb. In a way 20 years of therapy never quite could.

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And mine...

Fully.

What is an example of your self-awareness? (7/6/09)

pubic masturbation as a way of chasing down rape and securing for those who want to offer their two balls to a proper authority.

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The way I second-guess myself all the frickin' time...

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When awakening on many mornings, I'll lay there and think about where I am in life, and do my best to assure myself I am headed in a good direction for me ... that I am doing what makes me happy. Happy is important at this stage of my life!

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Being able to feel. Being able to recognize what I feel. Being able to respond appropriately to those identified feelings. Allowing myself to cry when I am deeply hurt as I did when I was a child.

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i say to myself, "thinking," and return to noticing my breath.

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"please"
"thank you"
"excuse me"
"no"
"yes"

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Being aware of others.

By the way folks: no one quoted Bob Dylan on the last question. Under honor code I feel obligated to add the following lyrics which seem to be true no matter where I am at in life and by themselves stand larger then life tereby addressing the present topical question:

"the time's are a changin' "

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A mild example: no matter how tight my budget is, I still buy myself frozen dinners to have when I don't feel like cooking. Cuz I know there will be those days, and I'd rather just accept my occasional laziness than struggle with it.

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I can tell stories about myself and how my deep-seated anger erupts at inconvenient times. I normally pull my own covers like this in AA meetings - and forums such as this one.

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I wake myself up when I snore.

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Watching and listening to my parents and realizing the things i do and feel that are a direct reaction or adaptation of their words and actions

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I recognize myself in the mirror.

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saying I'm sorry after fucking up yet again

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Jeepers...I don't quite know how to answer this one.

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I don't have a job or a lot of money but I donate regularly to charities & worthy causes - on the outside it may appear to be naive and/or a bit self-debilitating but I think it's the principled thing to do.

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The fact that when hear an inside voice I can now identify which head is speaking.

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I'm always super-conscious about the way I speak, look and act -- too much so, I believe.
Self awareness is not a quality for me it's more like a curse. That's probably why I am drawn so
strongly to zen teachings that encourage me to be less aware of myself as a single entity and
more sensitive to my place as part of a larger force in the universe of non-existence.

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Zippin' the lip.

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Remembering that all beings suffer...including my sister-in-law who drips diamonds and drives an Audi and has a personal trainer. I must remember, I must remember, I must remember.

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And mine...

I cough into my arm not my hand.

Please share your favorite song lyric(s). (6/28/09)

i caught a glimpse now it haunts me.

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"cherish the day, I won't be afraid, show me how deep your love is...."

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"The Future Will Blow Your Mind" —Simon Stinger/Fans of Jimmy Century

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you always hurt the one you love

from 'Always Dreaming (Wide Awake)' by Red Lorry Yellow Lorry

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I wouldn't even pretend to say I have a favorite song. My favorite song of the moment is the one that seems to coincide with the many facets and emotions gleaming in a given instant of my life. I will supply a set of lyrics that I find timeless and universal. (Besides my favorite song lyrics are for the songs I've written.)

Find the cost of freedom
Buried in the ground.
Mother earth will swallow you,
Lay your body down...

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gabba gabba hey, gabba hey, gabba hey!

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Dire Straits ... Water of Love:
"Water of love deep in the ground
But there ain't no water here to be found
Some day baby when the river runs free
It'll carry that water of love to me"

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You are not alone-Michael Jackson

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And did you think this fool could never win? Well look at me, I'm-a coming back again...

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Cucuroo carucha (Chevy '39)
Going to El Monte Legion Stadium
Pick up on my weesa (she is so divine)
Helps me stealing hub caps
Wasted all the time

Fuzzy Dice
Bongos in the back
My ship of love is
Ready to attack

-- "Dog Breath, in the Year of the Plague" from the album Uncle Meat by the Mothers of Invention

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Starry-eyed and laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time and we watched with one last look
Spellbound and swallowed 'til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones and worse
And for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
We gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

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oh Mystery, you are alive...i feel you all around...you are the fire in my heart...you are the holy sound...you are all of life, and it is to you that i sing...grant that i may feel You always and in everything.

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Blues Traveler
"Just Wait"

If ever you are feeling like you're tired
And all your uphill struggles leave you headed downhill
If you realize your wildest dreams can hurt you
And your appetite for pain has drinken its fill

I ask of you a very simple question
Did you think for one minute that you are alone
And is your suffering a privilege you share only
Or did you think that everybody else feels completely at home

Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come

If you think I've given up on you you're crazy
And if you think I don't love you well then you're just wrong
In time you just might take to feeling better
Time is the beauty of the road being long

I know that now you feel no consolation
But maybe if I told you and informed you out loud
I say this without fear of hesitation
I can honestly tell you that you make me proud

Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come
Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come

If anything I might have just said has helped you
If anything I might have just said helped you just carry on
Your rise uphill may no longer seem a struggle
And your appetite for pain may all but be gone

I hope for you and cannot stop at hoping
Until that smile has once again returned to your face
There's no such thing as a failure who keeps trying
Coasting to the bottom is the only disgrace

Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come
Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come
Just wait
Just wait
Just wait
And it will come

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So ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering.
There is a crack in everything -
That's how the light gets in.
---- Leonard Cohen, "Anthem"

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I'm so glad that he let me try it again
Cause my last time on earth I lived a whole world of sin
I'm so glad that I know more than I knew then
'Gonna keep on tryin
'Till I reach my highest ground...

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"I took one look at you,
That's all I meant to do,
and then my heart stood still........"

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This moment awake to the innate. Unruly gods and demons may emerge, but illusion and confusion do not follow. Through love and compassion, mindstream must evolve.
-Chod

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Messy Marv on the Prices on my head thug money on your family mix tape ....." I smoke so much weed I don't even get high / I eat a lil pussy bitch I can't even lie / I came up in the hood selling caviar / You said you had a boyfriend why you jump in my car ? / I hope you got some money bitch your house hella far.."

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here are so many amazing lyrics out there, it's hard to decide which lyrics to choose. So, instead of choosing the lyrics first, I chose the song first. My favorite song is The Star Spangled Banner, which was originally a poem entitled Defense of Fort McHenry written in 1814 by 35 year young Francis Scott Key after he witnessed the bombardment of Fort McHenry in 1812. Set to a British drinking song, the 1st stanza is the only one that is commonly sung, with the 4th (and final) stanza added for formal occasions. It wouldn't become the National Anthem until March 3, 1931, signed into law by President Herbert Hoover.

Okay, now the lyrics, the final lines of the final stanza:

"And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!"

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There ain't no hiding place from the father of creation

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I don't have a favorite anything other than my favorite wife and child.

But here's the first one that came to mind:

There are many many crazy things
That will keep me loving you
And with your permission
May I list a few

The way you wear your hat
The way you sip your tea
The memory of all that
No they cant take that away from me

The way your smile just beams
The way you sing off key
The way you haunt my dreams

No they cant take that away from me

We may never never meet again, on that bumpy road to love
But Ill always, always keep the memory of

The way you hold your knife
The way we danced till three
The way you changed my life
No they cant take that away from me

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"It makes no diff'rence how far I go
Like a scar the hurt will always show
It makes no diff'rence who I meet
They're just a face in the crowd
On a dead-end street
And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door"

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"Some day my Prince will come,
Some day I'll find my love,
And how thrilling that moment will be
When the Prince of my dreams comes to me.
He'll whisper 'I love you'
And steal a kiss or two.
Though he's far away
I'll find my love some day,
Some day when my dreams come true."

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Music is a World Within Itself
With a Language We All Understand

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I cannot name this
I cannot explain this
And I really don't want to
Just call me shameless
I can't even slow this down
Let alone stop this
And I keep looking around
But I cannot top this

If I had any sense
I guess I'd fear this
I guess I'd keep it down
So no one would hear this
I guess I'd shut my mouth and rethink a minute
But I can't shut it now
'Cuz there's something in it

(shameless, ani difranco)

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Good, good, goodbye, Bridget (really "good vibrations", but I couldn't understand the lyric on the recording).

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band: captain chaos and the crucifixion
album: 'where did i out that caesarian'
song" this game isn't for pussies
lyric 'wave, wave please behave. there's something in you that i should have gave. and i need it back from you so that i can save my hair. wave, wave, please behave. i'm stuck in a place called humanity and i'm been Given so that to 'ave'. but, fuck, you, because of the M in me i don't even have to ryhme. suck my cock, life, it's ready and Christlike. bang your own madmanness. i finally took a 'deal' with the devil after i realized that, if i hadn't, that poor child would have been relinquished to a bunch of ganglike murderously determined dick asswagers that would have been given to unlikely hood simpletime. sure, as in here, i'm the best, as in problem. 'try and see if you can get away with it. no one will know because no one cares to have the simple idea regifted.' "get away with it? it's mine already ...". that's when i got up and started, the wall it parted, and when i leapt out, i started. wave, wave please behave. i can't but pine for the dave. butt its not the dave that the fellas wanna cave. help, help, 'cuz this nigga got lost in Africa. and he ain't no big rizzy homo. he's bigga than shaq in a two on two attaq. kobe, give the ball back. i gotta to give to MJ so Vick can cut slack.

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"When the dream came
I held my breath with my eyes closed
I went insane
like a smoke ring day
when the wind blows
Now I won't be back till later on
If I do come back at all
But you know me
And I miss you now..."

--Buffalo Springfield

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Friends are friends forever, if the Lords the Lord of them, and a friend will not say never, cause the welcome never ends. Though it's hard to let you go in the father's hand we know, that a lifetime's not to long to live as friends...

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This is nearly impossible but if I had to choose one I'd pick something all-encompassing like:

"How long must we sing this song? How long?/
Tonight we can be as one."

Sunday Bloody Sunday, U2

Conveys exasperation and hope in a beautiful line.

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Stir it up little darling, stir it up, oh darling, darling, darling walk a while with me, I am just living to be dying by your side, Be my be my baby, be my baby now, la-la la-la la-la la-la and we'll send you glad tidings from New York, I do believe in all the things you see and you better run, run, run to me better come, come, come to me, better run, You can go your own way,Maybe your heart is breaking well I wouldn't know now would I? A lock of hair, a belt he wore is not enough I need more,Let's get crossed off everybody's list, And you're standing here beside me out of the passage of time, never for money always for love,And you love me till my heart stops, love me till I'm dead, I have never known the like of this I've been alone and I have missed things and kept out of sight, I've been trying to show you over and over look at these my child bearing hips, look at these my ruby red ruby lips, Skip that lipstick and I know you cheat but right or wrong don't matter when you're with me sweet, hush now don't explain, I wonder should I call you but I know what you will say, once upon a time I was falling in love but now I'm only falling apart, there's nothing I can say a total eclipse of the heart, rush, rush hurry hurry lover come to me, said woman take it slow cause the lights are shining bright, call me for your lover's lover's alibi,who's your daddy? get your freak on, you better get right with god, shouldn't I have this? shouldn't I have this?My darling oh my darling, my heart breaks as you take your lone journey,Hallelujah, Hallelujah,how long shall they kill our prophets while we stand aside and look? Imagine all the people living for today, what's gonna set you free? Look inside and you'll see, Like Sam the butcher bringing Alice the meat, like Fred Flintstone driving around with bald feet. Where do we go now?

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"We're A Happy Family"/The Ramones
We're a happy family
Me mom and daddy
Sitting here in Queens
Eating refried beans
We're in all the magazines
Gulpin' down thorazines
We ain't got no friends
Our troubles never end
No Christmas cards to send
Daddy likes men

Daddy's telling lies
Baby's eating flies
Mommy's on pills
Baby's got the chills
I'm friends with the President
I'm friends with the Pope
We're all making a fortune
Selling Daddy's dope

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And mine...

And so suppose love
Lives in a mansion
How in hell do I get
Over the wall? And
If my rope's not
Stretched the right tension
I won't cross this
Grand Canyon at all
And I suppose that it
Grows like a tumor
Spreads like a rumor
Like the grass grows an
Inch in every day

- Hammering Heart by del Amitri

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

What could you do if only given the chance? (6/21/09)

If given five years of complete financial freedom I could write a work to stand beside Joyce. In the brief two weekd of freedom that I've had recently I'm amazed by what I've been able to write.

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sleep for days

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I would be a great nurse......

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Producer a great film, write a book, run a successful company, make a lot of money.

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As I've been given the chance to write and I'm wrting only sporadically, I can take THAT illusion off the table. So my truest desire is to have a small farm with a mountain meadow, a few goats, horses, cattle, farm dogs, and big gardens. I've got enough experience as a farmer, I could pull that off...if I didn't have to make a profit and I could just aim for sustainability, that is. Off the grid with some skis would be perfect. lol I'm an old lady who want to back country ski in my 80's. In fact, I wanna got out in my 80's dropping off a cornice or something. Fuck the whole idea of 100 pill bottles and a walker. (I've been working on health care reform for 10 years...can you see the bitterness?? Drugging old people into a medically induced unnatural stupor MAKES ME VERY ANGRY.)

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Make great art

bring new inventions into the world

host a brilliant tv variety hour

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Be an actress.

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Be the spiritual gatekeeper for new babies as they enter..........to perform sacred ritual at a baby's birth.....I've never witnessed childbirth before, although I've expressed my desire to do so. No one has yet taken me up on my offer to be in the delivery room whilst calling forth the gods and ancestors. in god's time, I guess.

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take a trip to outer space.

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1. write a great book (which I'm in the process of doing anyway)

2. run a marathon in under 3.5 hours

3. learn Italian

4. make the meanest chocolate cake this side of the Mississippi

5. raise more donations for the SF Food Bank than have ever been raised before (that's what I'd like to do)

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I would live without fear of consequences!

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work on a job with a much bigger budget!

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Be a good girlfriend

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shoot satan in the head with a weapon designed insightfully in the same moment that my soulmate marries Jesus and bears a child. oops.

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Think freely and creatively like I did when I was 18. There were no limits to my imagination then...

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go back and do it all over again with the knowledge I have now!

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Relax.

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If given the chance? Or just make it happen? Where to begin? Sing for a living; weigh my ideal weight; knit for a living; afford retirement...... the list goes on.

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Read books all day and all night.

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Marry Tom Cruise. If only he had met me before Katie Holmes... (Actually, I think they are a really cute couple. I hope this one lasts.)

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Hopefully something pretty cool ...

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I am a really good actor &, if given a greater chance in film & television, I can share my talents with a much larger audience!!

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What does that mean? Each of us has the ability already to pursue great opportunity. If by "given the chance" the question implies someone else would enable me to affect change, I've already seen what happens in my life when others enable me. I think I'll stick to my own resources.

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Rock the Fillmore.

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And mine...

Be a very generous billionaire.

Monday, June 8, 2009

What is going well? (6/8/09)

life. new apartment, new school, new camera, new boyfriend, new age. life is going well. (new age because today is my birthday. 23.)

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While storms rage wildly in the sky, my soul marches insistently forward toward harmony and grace.

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my prayer & meditation at my bedroom altar. I light at least three candles and sit there on a pillow to say my prayers, to bless my fellows, and to set the intentions for my day. I ask for mercy, safety, high favor, and angel protection.

although I would love to say that I do this daily, I am in very good form just by doing it 3 to 4 times per week.

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Pretty much everything, except for my pursuit of happiness in things external. Other than that, things are rockin!

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everything.....but not all at the same time and not at all times...

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still sober after all these years and am, basically, happy, joyous and free.

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The gardens look great and I finally got all the closets and dressers cleared of items that could be donated. Not working means a cleaner house and lovelier gardens.

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at this moment absolutely nothing....

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My faith in my Higher Power

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Being a mom to a great baby.

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My orchid is about to bloom for the first time in 3 years.

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My unsuccessful search for a job! I'm down to my last unemployment check!!! Zoiks!!!!

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Right now, most things - except my weight.

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masturbating in the sacred forest, against the will of modern man. smoking the garbage of human life in a container that has so much evolution it's almost ridicuklous to continue to live here. and listening to angry former men rank and persuade me of my soul mate, my Dream, The Dream, and the light they formerly had. planning on readdressing rape.

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My hair looks GREAT!

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My job is steady. Some times there is drama but at the end of the day I do alright for myself. I am enrolled in to school and I have a great counselor. I have a beautiful wonderful supportive family. I lost five pounds and started shooting hoops over the weekend at my folks house and brought back some equipment. I treated myself to two beautiful dresses one of which I will where to the opera, I have box seats to Porgy and Bess, which my good friend is performing in. I really work a good program of recovery. I have been sober for seven months and two weeks despite a relationship with a person who didn't seem to think of me as credible or good enough to bring with him along to meet his friends. I feel like that is going for me, we broke up. I feel like my world is getting larger and my parents and friends are all very proud of me. I feel a sense of accomplishment and my energy is driven and focused toward my dreams. I know that there are great things in store for me, and I know that I have so much to offer this world in manners of the heart. I couldn't ask for more. Thank you.

??

I finally, finally, finally earned a B.A. in English. With honors. It feels good.

??

Most of my plans, packing, my relationship with my lovely lover, many things...

??

SWIMMING!

??

Satan's plan.

??

My garden. The day lilies are lovely. My outlook on life, which improves each day it seems.

??

And mine...

The band, work, experiencing my feelings in the moment, my hair.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

What has been the outcome of your social missteps? (5/31/09)

i have been blacklisted from the house of more! and i couldn't be happier.

??

Being at a party today with wild, tattooed, pierced, young people, most of them at least 30 years younger than I, and not feeling completely out-of-place. Finding someone who looked like she felt worse than I, and having a great conversation with her.

??

I will probably never know the full impact, but I know for sure that my gas can clear a dance floor in about 3 minutes.

??

j, you always ask the most timely questions. just telling my friend over dinner tonight that i'm finding myself surrounded by a sea of people that i see often but with whom i do not have a true connection, or have issues with. and i'm spending less time with the people that are truly my homies. i'm changing the filter on my social butterfly ways. authentic interactions, true friendships. life is too short for anything else.

??

Pain, remorse, shame, mayhem, confusion, and stupid laughter.

??

that I don't trust myself in social situations....I overcompensate to be a "good boy" and don't have a good time. The older I get, the more a life of a hermit looks good...

??

Two divorces ...

??

No one will dance with me?

I have innumerable career missteps, but I can't think of any significant social missteps. I was from a family of very modest means (ok, overt poverty) and grew up in rural America. Not many social events to stumble in. As a young adult, I was a drunk and made sure to align myself with "lesser companions" so as to always look more together than my friends. We were pretty much social barbarians so the worse I acted, the better I fit in. As an adult in recovery, I'm simply not that deeply social. I avoid calling undue attention to myself. I taught myself appropriate social behaviors (for dining out, weddings, etc.) and I play nice. I don't drink anymore, so the chances for inadvertent assholishness are minimized.

??

My marriage. Seriously. I once took a date to a party and saw another pretty
girl across the room who smiled at me. I never wanted to meet someone so badly
in my life. She was beautiful. I told the young woman I was with that I didn't
feel well and suggested I take her home, which I did. I then hightailed it back
to the party to meet the other girl. My date, of course, heard about my social
misdeed, and sent me a letter that made me feel like a total jerk, which I
admit I was. On the other hand, I ended up marrying that pretty girl I went
back to meet, and we've been together now for 29 years.

??

I calculate what I say before I say it. I take more time to analyze what I'm doing and what it means. Perception can be very damaging.. or very rewarding. When I forget to think before I speak/act (and it still happens here and there) it's painfully obvious.

??

I'm SURE that there is at least one ex out there who thinks I'm crazy. bitchy, and confused. The problem is that he's right! When I was dating him it was probably the lowest time of my life and I had NO BUSINESS dating anyone. But I wanted the company and the sex so I did, and proceeded to act crazy! Other than that, I think I've done a decent job of straightening out any other faux pas I may have made.....I hope!

??

lots of shame : ( and ongoing comments from others about "that night"

??

learning and growth. and less CAREFUL steps.

??

Red faced embarrassment all around

??

they usually lead to varying degrees of alienation....hell i'm still trying to figure out what's in my blind spot....

??

sually consequences involving a series of apologies and guilt from my part. (Humility is one word and the short version) Also, opportunity to learn or evaluate what about the misstep is fear based. In every mistake is an opportunity to see another perception and grow from one's limitations. Yet, did I make a fool out of myself by simply not agreeing with the party? or did I hurt some one? If I hurt some one then I know I hurt myself. If I decided to have a voice against the odds because I felt in my heart the opportunity was alive for an alternative perspective....then this is not a social misstep, it is debate and democracy. Esoteric and eccentric people who misstep some boundaries of society have their place at times in spiritual utilities. There is the misstep that happens when one walks into a room wearing the "wrong" apparatus for the situation. That is laughable. The misstep that involves mistakenly stepping on another's toe with a sordid comment or rude manner...well this is the sort of thing that each person has the opportunity to take responsibility for.

??

If I'm conscious, I learn some valuable lessons (primarily about how to be a better person). If I'm not conscious, the lesson repeats itself, usually with more dire consequences. I'm trying to be more conscious of what I do and how my actions impact others, but I haven't reached perfection. It's a process.

??

alignment of life back to life such that social is further noted to be gracious and cool and missteps become family get togethers. back in the 1313 style of 'who's gonna win this one?'
two for six eight, who do we appreciate?
xavier, xavier, and muk!
whatever, Eve. i'll see you back at the shower stall.
satan, simmer down. the devil just needs some space. it's not about you and him. it's about me you and him.
Jesus, can we trust that mr. jones won't react?
and who's this Biden character? a mccain?
10,280, bitches. save what?
also, saint mike gets noted as the last travelling sky show.
and seabuscuit blue angels the sky above the alcatraz triangle.
are you guys going or staying?

??

Well, I was going to say, a life that has left me at odds with society and somewhat of a renegade despite my substantial turnarounds in disposition and questionable activities. But then I think that certain opportunities were never really a choice for me and that even if I had pursued a more "social" path I would have the same doubts and uncertainties that I have now. When everything washes out, I am probably the person I would have been no matter which direction I went or which path I chose. All due respects to Robert Frost.

??

Useful information.

??

Much embarrassment, sadness, and wasted time, but also much learning....

??

And mine...

Almost always the same: Trust my instincts.

What's in your blind spot? (5/18/09)

only this exact precise present moment which is real and unknowable. everything else is an illusion, except maybe divine things I also can't know.

"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's mind there are few."

Shunryu Suzuki Roshi

??

Usually a man with green eyes.......

??

Puppies and kittens.

??

The intersection of money and love.

??

I'm not so sure. That's why I'm in analysis.

??

The cops who pull me over..

??

My arrogance.

??

What isn't in my blind spot?

??

what blindspot ;-) ?

the things i am not ready to look at yet.

??

Oh, man. I usually push my boyfriend's immaturity into my blind spot.. it's the only way I can keep going.

??

wouldn't YOU want to know! HA!


??

I don't know! That's why it's called a BLIND spot. I can't see it.

??

Death is my blind spot. It blinds me with its totality, its finality and its universality.

??

I don't know, dearie. I can't see there.

??

everything I can't see

??

Obviously it's the big surprise that I haven't seen coming.

??

Ignorance and hatred along with intolerance.

??

Whenever and wherever I try to understand what a woman is thinking.

??

And mine...

How the manifestations of my fear of people affects them.

Are you being watched? Are you being loved? Are you being kind? (5/11/09)

I am. My 12 year old son is very affectionate and nudges his way under my arm, and my 2 year old daughter melts into my embrace. And my wife and I take the time to talk and kiss and communicate and support each other. Married-Parenting love isn't always the most romantic love, but it's often the love of your best, most generous self.

??

Totally.

??

It is a risk to let myself be loved. It is a risk I want to take more often.
My heart is hungry for it.

??

only when i'm awake, or dreaming sometimes.

??

Kind nice isn't surely kind heart. Kind soul may only reach kind shallow. Kind kick in the ass and kind kiss the raw animal belly of bliss yearn beyond the tepid servility of expectation.

??

All the time! By my family mostly, but also by a handful of friends and a group of strangers. And with my finely tuned spam blockers, I also receive random love from Internet strangers in the form of things like this: http://www.pixelcase.com.au/vr/2009/newyork/

??

Yes.......at the moment, I do not have romantic love in my life, but I see how my higher power has compensated by lifting the veil over my eyes and showing me the wonderful friends and family that love me...

??

yes

??

If you've never owned and loved a dog ... you really have not experienced love. I am loved.

??

Of course

??

My consumer habits are being tracked and my internet searches recorded so that the ads that pop up are dialed in to my interests. The speed and red light cameras don't catch me anymore, but the Metro video surveillance does. The grocery store "bonus card" gives marketers intimate insight into my demographic. They know what brand of tampons I buy and my secret Oreo addiction. When I swipe my bank card in Canaan Valley, WV, someone knows we're gone for the weekend...again. They know, too, that we haven't gone out since the end of ski season. Amazon knows my grandbabies live in Connecticut now. Huffington Post published a list political contributors in 2004, so so anyone doing a Google search for my name (not that I'm not an egomaniac, but I do so regularly because I am a consultant in a visible field) knows I supported Kerry. What they don't know why or how (not) enthusiastically I supported him.

I'm being watched, but not understood. With as much data there are out there about me, I feel remarkably (and sadly) invisible. No one watches ME, they watch my money.

??

Despite feelings to the contrary sometimes, I'd wager "yes, very much."

??

I'm a supervisor. My subordinates watch me constantly. Every single move I make, every action, every word I speak, every interaction I have with customers and associates. They're like little video recorders, they tape it all.

??

all the time, if i'm open to it.

??

All the time!

??

Yes

??

On my way to work this morning, I walked down to the lobby and looked up at the video cameras pointed at the front doors. I walked up to the corner to turn towards the train and a video camera in the alley behind me recorded my movements. Schoolchildren along the next block had stopped in two different places and were absorbed over their cellphones. Two of them were holding their phones straight up in front of their faces. They could have been snapping photographs of me or perhaps watching my movement with video. Various other alleys also had video cameras trained to scrutinize the passers-by. I walked into the train station and counted four upside down globes of video cameras by the time I entered through the turnstiles. There are two more globes on the platform, as well as two other cameras ostensibly trained for the conductor to watch on monitors in the middle of the station to see around the curve at the end and not close the doors on customers.

I changed to another train at a station which we know is on the radar screen of terrorists from Asia and the Mideast since a incident in the 1990's when a cadre was caught with bombs filled with nails which they were days away from igniting in this station. There are cameras galore. There are also cops, plainclothed and in uniform everywhere.

On the train, there are no official cameras, but there are more cellphones. I have surreptitiously taken film of other passengers myself when they were not watching. When I changed trains again, there were many more official cameras. At my destination station, more official cameras were everywhere. I walked the two blocks to my office building and went by the cameras in the courtyard, the lobby, the elevator and on my floor and then walked into my office. My manager was sitting at my computer looking through the work I had been doing.

I am being watched. You are being watched. We are being watched. And I am far more under the radar than you are.

??

I'm probably not interesting enough...

??

I hope so. It turns me on.

??

yes.

??

All day, every day, even if most of the time it's from someone who's no longer here - my Mom. Love and miss you, Mom!

??

Some times and other times it's all the ego

??

I am often told that I am. I guess that infers something.

??

not anymore. she is not the cyber stalking type....

??

Aren't we all, by someone? I don't believe in God, so that's not what I mean.

??

Constantly!!! (That's the money you could be saving with G-----!)

??

I wish.

??

Sometimes I think I'm being too kind. Compassion can be draining when it's practiced on an unlimited basis....

??

And mine...

Most of the time.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

What do you do when it hurts? (5/5/09)

Rub some 'tussin on it!

??

i take a picture. it lasts longer, but it makes it all go away so fast.

??

I cry. Not always right away, but sooner or later it happens.

??

Spray Windex on it.

??
cry like there is no tomorrow.........

??

ice

??

Prop it up on the sofa and begin self-medication...

??

Cry, cry, cry.

??

I read. What do I read when it hurts?

It depends on how I hurt. if it is a kind of hurt that I am so hurt that all I want to do is escape, I read escapist fiction, anything from Octavia Butler to Ian Rankin to The Count of Monte Cristo, hopefully something I haven't read before or at least something I haven't read in twenty years.

Then, once I can deal a little bit better, my choices get stronger and I read Tolstoy, Turgenev, Virginia Woolf, others.

If I have the kind of hurt that stems from loneliness or a sense of really being singular, I read Beckett, Shakespeare, Sarah Kane, Thuycydides, Diderot, Swift, poetry like Ginzberg, or any of a short list of others who can make me feel like the kind of understanding I need is not a dream.

??

cry, or scream, or both

??

I cry, get angry and if it persists I feel sorry for myself.

??

Physical or emotional hurt? The answer is pretty much the same - I have had a chronic illness for many years and have developed a lot of coping strategies for physical pain that work for emotional pain as well. One is that I try to relax and take a mental trip to somewhere that I really, really love. I imagine walking through that place, and try to bring back in every detail the sights, the sounds, the smells, who I was with, what I ate and drank, what the weather was like, was there art that I loved? Plants, flowers? What clothing was I wearing and how did it feel on my body? Was the wind blowing? I go very slowly and imagine everything in as much detail as I can. I have a whole list of places that I go - Delft, Chinatown in New York, Boston's North End, the Arnold Arboretum, the Charles Bridge in Prague, New Orleans, Memphis, Santa Fe.... After a mental getaway I always feel the pain cycle has been broken.

Also- listening to music. Really listening, focusing on the bass lines, the drumming, not just the singer and guitarist. Putting on head phones and following every note. You would think I'd pick some cheesy meditation music for this, but I actually find it works best with old school punk. If the music is too relaxing it's too easy to drift off and think about the pain again. It has to be something that will totally take over the brain functions. How do I spell relief? S-T-I-V B-A-T-O-R-S.

??

The only thing I can do: dance it out.

??

Fully feel it and apply whatever practices I know.

??

Get another tattoo

??

Whatever I can to make it stop. Easier to do with physical pain, much
harder with pain in the heart. I usually think my way through
heartache, but it takes a long time.

??

Nothing, unless it is physically diabillitating, in which case I get meds from the MD. Living is a constant state of atomic collision, one pain after another, physically, mentally, spiritually. Most of the time you just have to let it flow through you, being transparent to the experience. Perseverance furthers.

??

Kiss it and make it better.

??

some times the right thing and some times I smoke

??

Stretch and rest, or take a small break

??

I take one Tylenol and two Advil (someone told me this is like taking Tylenole with Coedine but without the woozy head effects). That's for physical hurts. For emotional hurts - chocolate!

??

moan.

pray.

moan.

??

to feel better

??

I used to pick up the phone and reach out. but I find my friends are busy, occupied with their own lives, relationships, and problems. Besides, I find it takes too much energy to explain it all. I can always hear the other person typing on the other end of the phone anyway. Now I find myself more likely to reach for a Klonopin, ice crea, = and putting in a dvd.

??

kiss it and make it better

??

Try to make "it" stop if whatever is causing the pain is injurious to body or spirit..so if I have to speak up, I find my voice.

Sometime when it hurts, it's an unused muscle (or emotion or truth) that needs to be worked a little harder or longer, so I ease up put keep moving forward. Exhaustion and dehydration can make the last 1/4 of a long hike or mountain bike ride really really unpleasant. So...I drink more (Gatorade!!) and I get my brain to shift out of "OMG, how much longer, farther is it" to a more positive frame.
Advice given a friend a few days ago by her best male friend: Life is rough. Wear a helmet.

I spend a good deal of my life wearing a helmet...skiing, biking, even considering one for surfing/windsurfing (the way ugliest helmets of all time). Maybe I have it all wrong. Where I really get hurt is my personal and professional interactions. Maybe I should put on a helmet first thing every morning to help ward off the angry stoning mobs of haters!!

??

Well, it has hurt an awful lot the past couple of weeks and for damn good reason. I've prayed and meditated and called the ones who love me and had smart feet and all that good kind of stuff. I also ate too much bread and pizza, listened to a lot of sports talk radio, and made out with someone whom I probably should not have made out with. That kind of thing.

??

I sulk, I cry, I isolate, I plot revenge, I pray.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

What's another way to put it? (4/28/09)

how can you say it another way?

??

I think you've run out of good questions.

??

Tomato

??

Inside out, upside down, frontside back, leftside right, abstractside concrete, poeticside banal, colorside gray, painside pleasure, pessimistside optimist, darknightside ecstatic.

??

Everything is a set up and 911 was made to put fear in us obama and macain are players for the same team and why does a currency in the united states read new world order on latin ? When are we all going to see the big picture for what the federal banking system is setting up for our children ,we need to wake up

??

Their actions didn't come from being mean spirited...their actions came from being afraid...

??

is in layman's terms

??

"It is what it is........."

??

It's the echo that's heard from the walls of this dimension. Some people just happen to be sitting close enough to hear and others of us can't help but charge right for those walls and keep on banging on them until we're exhausted.

??

Probably sideways, but that might hurt.

??

Well ... hummm ...
... instead of putting up with it
... try putting down with it

??

Let me put it this way: It's not you. It's me.

??

In other words, it doesn't really matter that much unless you make it matter. Just stop worrying about it.

??

Hopefully not with cliché. Every time I see a piece of writing with numerous clichés, I get very upset. It's time to find new ways to say old things.

??

I've found that I'm still kind of in love with her.

??

Another way to put it is that I like you the way you are. I don't want to change you.

??

"When you behave that way, it reminds me of some childhood fear or
hurt. So I get anxious, and because I am anxious, I'm not thinking
straight, or listening well, and I lash out at you in anger. But it's
just fear. Can we talk about ways we might deal with this, now and in
the future?"

As opposed to, "Fuck you."

??

"It's not you, it's me."

??

It is what it is

??

Another way of puttin' it is that they should get themselves hence and fornicate themselves!

??

up the butt.

??

Upside down & inside out.

??

Descriptive language, allegory, analogy, realistically, evasively, bluntly ...

... through hand gestures, eye contact, body language ...

... a smile ...

... a kiss ...

... laughter ...

... screams ...

... or silence ...

??

...in your pipe and smoke it...

??

"I haven't talked about it, but I know specifically of reports that I read, that I saw, that lay out what we learned through the interrogation process and what the consequences were for the country," Cheney said.

WE WERE WORRIED ABOUT COVERING FOR THE ONE PERCENT POSSIBILITY. IT’S ALL ABOUT POWER, BABY. IF YOU KNOW WE WILL TORTURE YOU, YOU WILL BE AFRAID TO ASK.

"I've now formally asked the CIA to take steps to declassify those memos so we can lay them out there and the American people have a chance to see what we obtained and what we learned and how good the intelligence was."

IT”S BAD TO RELEASE ANY INFORMATION ABOUT WHAT THE GOVERNMENT WAS DOING, EXCEPT WHEN I SAY SO.

also: I KNOW YOU WON”T REALLY DO IT, SO I AM HEREBY RAISING MY ANTE, YOU TRAITOROUS COMMIE FUCKERS.

??

put it the positive way!

??

if two times two doesn't equal four (not even close) then light can travel at a speed unknowable to man. if history is nothing but a dreamer asleep, then reality must preclude that awakening. if love and hate fight it out to the bitter end, then that end is hate. love doesn't fight. but it does prevail. don't tell the haters that they don't hate. that might e too heavy for them. tell them that they are just misfits. that'll be better.
lastly, if Jesus is Real, there is no other God.

??

no i don't want to be your boyfriend
i love you
I'm not saying no forever
I like you
stay with me
thank you
understanding
no we are not friends with benefits
we are lovers and family
we are not ready for that label
he's just not that in to you
what's wrong with going label-less if what you have is great?
if he was the one he would be proud to be your boyfriend
dump him
may be take some time and if it is right it will work out and if it isn't then you will know
may be he needs more time
may be he is not that into me
may be things are really great when I am

??

A good friend, now at the "big meeting" once told me to consider three questions before I told someone something difficult. Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? If what I have to say to someone is true and necessary, I need to remember to be as kind as possible. Otherwise, it might be best to say nothing at all. Sage advice - I thought so then and I still think so today.

??

If, if, if........If my mother had wheels she would be a bus.

??

rather than "i think" (which really means "i think and therefore i am..right") use "what i feel is" or "the way that i'm going to do it is" or...well there are probably a lot of other options which i will be working on firguring out while moving forward

??

another way to put it is: this is an opportunity I have wanted for a long time. and no matter what the outcome is, it's worth the experience.

??

Was ist eine weitere Möglichkeit es zum ausdrücken?

??

I'm totally fucked...

??

Everything you know is wrong.

And mine...

Qu'est-ce que c'est le je ne c'est qua?

What have you found? (4/21/09)

DISRASHTI0N. PAYSHI0NS. N DR0. FUCK DA SMALL SHIT.

??

I'm not sure. Although, I know it's mine.

??

I have found the dance at the edge of awareness,
I have found the beauty of a half-opened flower,
I have found the truth within each precious body,
I have found the laughter that suffuses all unfolding.

??

If I find my own way
How much will I find
You

??

I've found that I get away with nothing and that I keep repeating the same lessons until I learn, change, and move on.....

??

peace, love, thoughts, feelings, physicality, insanity, darkness, gods, gurus, etc.

??

Acceptance. I don't get pissed off much anymore. Life isn't perfect. People aren't perfect. We don't get everything we want. That's the way of the world. So don't get an ulcer over it. Don't pop a blood vessel because of the lousy driver who cut you off. On the other hand, don't be afraid to speak out for what's right, defend someone who's being treated badly, stand up for what you believe. But remember that essentially life goes on as it always has. So take a deep breath, cool down a bit, try to have a little fun when you can, and seek peace within yourself.

??

I've found OUT that I'm TERRIBLE with MONEY.

??

I've found that you can destroy almost anything with just a hammer.

??

Assistance

??

my fiercely brave inner warrior goddess whose always jonesing for justice...she suits up and shows up to fight the good fight with a little humor, sass factor, and glam.

??

That I'm pretty happy/comfortable living alone with my Yorkies.

??

That helping other without thought of payback gives me a really good feeling about myself. In fact, that feeling is all the payback I need.

??

that happiness is not about having the best of everything but about making the best out of what you already have

??

More illusion than fact...more greed than ethics...more kindness than I expected...more narcissism than I can bear.

??

that I really do love cashews.

that writing continues to bring me great joy.

that I still miss my friend Peter, who died nine years ago.

that Rome still beckons, though I haven't yet figured out how to live there.

that sex in my mid-40s with a man I'm wildly in love with, yeowzah!, sets the bed on fire and burns the paint off the walls!

??

That fear and a lack of faith are my greatest enemies

??

more questions.

??

I have found that the thing that makes me love someone the most, or like them, or desire them, or enjoy them, is the way they make me feel about myself, and their ability to see something lovely in me. I can't decide if I am troubled by the narcissism of this, or lulled by the obviousness.

??

10 cents, in a bag I bought at a thrift store.

??

I've found that most people born after 1985, just don't get it!

??

th e coptic christian footwear intending although quite already.

??

At least six four leaved clovers in the last week.

??

Well, every other day this month (April is National Poetry Month!), I have found a line of poetry in my inbox, from my friend J---. We traded lines all month. We have four more days, so I have one more line in response, as I'm going to let Jeannie finish it, because a gentleman always lets a lady finish. Here's what J--- and I have found so far. J--- had the first line, I had the second, then back and forth between us. She's Grey-eyed Ajeana, hipper than Athena, and I'm Aslopius, the wounded god of garbage:

Narratives Thwarted,
An April String by Ajeana & Aslopius

Remember the dresses, a circulating skin
rainbows on cuttlefish, a cloud of squid ink
a touch of the blood on the nib of a pin
the well of the soul or the fingered instinct
tracing the notes on a crumbling spine
in the shrine of the goddess in Paleo Paphos
whose regrets are entwined in the upturn of moss.
Her husband was lame and the god of the swine
who plays his own game while lamenting his loss
a heart that he hammered into an infernal tine
and pulsed with blood from the bacchic vine.
But the shrine is now silence, dust and dross
as the poet looks skyward for a sign
angels tattooed with the sign of the cross
or token clouds with a silvery line
stretching from the nail to the Sea of Tranquility
lighting up the branches of a juniper tree.
There bloody hung dresses skewered on a fork.
Heading for the crossroads, the two of us talk
of the death of the future in the birth of the past
and other bad castings that leave us aghast
for poets are allergic to missing the mark.
Sparrows rain-dance in the heart of Queens Park.
The Red Oracle sings from a cage facing East
of folly when friendship's a movable feast
the road too well travelled is bait for the beast

??

Nothing new.

??

A better question -- why are you asking these questions?

??

Mystery and truth, somewhere between the earth and the stars.

I have found my place in this world

Light years away from where I thought

I have found comfort in the sunshine

Laughter in the pain.

I have found that the ones that matter stay

Even as the others fade,

Slowly turning to dust.

I have found that home isn’t a place, but a feeling.

A feeling I have found in this city on uncertainty.

The city lights shine bright in this place I’ve found.

Biding me, “Come here”, “Try this”, “Buy now.”

I have found that music cures the soul.

I have found that the good die young,

And everything you need in life is free—

If you look hard enough.

But I have found that searching is the hardest part of all.

??

And mine...

A very unusual relationship, which I am enjoying very much.

That writing on the sidewalk and volunteering at the county jail make for an excellent Tuesday.