Monday, September 21, 2009
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.
??
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
??
Enjoy it the feelings for they are beautiful.
??
U g0t many fish in da sea.
??
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.
??
Take it when and where you can get it 'cos true love doesn't come around all that often.
??
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.
??
you should have the V8 instead......
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
Its nice to be in love, it feels good.
??
Wait until you are 35!!
??
That it is easy
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
Look, kid, I'm seeing your mom and you're just going to have to get used to it.
??
And mine...
It's really fun when you go slowly. That way it won't rattle your heart.
what. Always be 100% yourself.
??
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
??
Enjoy it the feelings for they are beautiful.
??
U g0t many fish in da sea.
??
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.
??
Take it when and where you can get it 'cos true love doesn't come around all that often.
??
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.
??
you should have the V8 instead......
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
Its nice to be in love, it feels good.
??
Wait until you are 35!!
??
That it is easy
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
Look, kid, I'm seeing your mom and you're just going to have to get used to it.
??
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.
??
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.
??
I would hope that just listening, offering a shoulder to lean on or simply offering a hand to help would be my contribution.
??
I volunteer at St. Luke's Emergency Dept.
??
I clear the table and do the dishes.
??
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.
??
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
??
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
??
It dpen 0n wh0, why n my mood.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
I start each day asking God to help me get out of my way so he can use me to do his work.....
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
By consciously wanting to - and trying - at times, whether with sympathy, heart or mind.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
And mine...
I listen. I tell the truth as I experience it.
??
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.
??
I would hope that just listening, offering a shoulder to lean on or simply offering a hand to help would be my contribution.
??
I volunteer at St. Luke's Emergency Dept.
??
I clear the table and do the dishes.
??
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.
??
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
??
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
??
It dpen 0n wh0, why n my mood.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
I start each day asking God to help me get out of my way so he can use me to do his work.....
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
By consciously wanting to - and trying - at times, whether with sympathy, heart or mind.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
honesty
??
A warm smile
??
being offered a cup of tea.
??
I can see it in a person's eyes.......
??
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
??
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.
??
Informality.
??
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.
??
roses and hellos so long's and ashes.
family always. weddings, often, funerals, sadly apart of.
??
a warm smile, bright eyes, happiness to see me
??
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!
??
no judgements
no criticism
good food
good music
humor
nice lightening
cushions
??
A warm smile, a good hug or handshake ... introduction to others.
??
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.
??
when $20 bills float all around me so that i can buy drugs and keep the proper commerce in placce.
??
A big wrinkly smile on my friend's face. A nice hot cup of tea.
??
A meaningful smile
??
A big sincere smile and a warm hug.
??
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!
??
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.
??
When people write back to me and share their feelings with me
??
A smile
??
Big hugs.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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...
??
honesty
??
A warm smile
??
being offered a cup of tea.
??
I can see it in a person's eyes.......
??
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
??
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.
??
Informality.
??
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.
??
roses and hellos so long's and ashes.
family always. weddings, often, funerals, sadly apart of.
??
a warm smile, bright eyes, happiness to see me
??
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!
??
no judgements
no criticism
good food
good music
humor
nice lightening
cushions
??
A warm smile, a good hug or handshake ... introduction to others.
??
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.
??
when $20 bills float all around me so that i can buy drugs and keep the proper commerce in placce.
??
A big wrinkly smile on my friend's face. A nice hot cup of tea.
??
A meaningful smile
??
A big sincere smile and a warm hug.
??
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!
??
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.
??
When people write back to me and share their feelings with me
??
A smile
??
Big hugs.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
This guy that I have a crush on......;) (sigh)
??
performing on stage, doing something I don't want to do
??
Not much lately. It's usually a phenomena I only experience at the start of a relationship.
??
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.
??
A telephone call from my ex-wife (bad butterflies).
A very nice sexy-looking lady (good butterflies).
??
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.
??
Public speaking...that moment right before I am going to teach a class...
??
[my son] says: before soccer game, briefly
??
Talking to a crush.
??
Being around my teacher. Relating to someone I'm attracted to. The dharma.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
girls!
??
Performing in front of a crowd, still.
Talking to a woman whom I find attractive, still - in my 50s.
??
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.
??
men
??
my girlfriend. every time I look at her I feel all shy and get butterflies in my tummy.
??
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.
??
The beginning of a new chapter in life...
??
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.
??
A few things come to mind ...
A first date/approaching a cute/hot woman.
A job interview.
Getting feedback on my writing.
??
Momma and Poppa Butterfly.
??
And mine...
Dating
Diarrhea
Roller coasters
??
This guy that I have a crush on......;) (sigh)
??
performing on stage, doing something I don't want to do
??
Not much lately. It's usually a phenomena I only experience at the start of a relationship.
??
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.
??
A telephone call from my ex-wife (bad butterflies).
A very nice sexy-looking lady (good butterflies).
??
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.
??
Public speaking...that moment right before I am going to teach a class...
??
[my son] says: before soccer game, briefly
??
Talking to a crush.
??
Being around my teacher. Relating to someone I'm attracted to. The dharma.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
girls!
??
Performing in front of a crowd, still.
Talking to a woman whom I find attractive, still - in my 50s.
??
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.
??
men
??
my girlfriend. every time I look at her I feel all shy and get butterflies in my tummy.
??
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.
??
The beginning of a new chapter in life...
??
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.
??
A few things come to mind ...
A first date/approaching a cute/hot woman.
A job interview.
Getting feedback on my writing.
??
Momma and Poppa Butterfly.
??
And mine...
Dating
Diarrhea
Roller coasters
If you've ever seen a dead body in person, what was your reaction? (8/9/09)
Bummed.
??
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.
??
It was my lack of reaction. It wasn't as scarey or as upsetting as I thought it would be......
??
Sadness.
??
I actually saw a number of dead bodies on Saturday. It was pretty neat.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
Bye Mom.
??
Yes. a few timez. everythng frm sexaul thngz kind fresh n 0ld az durt 2 cleanin at nursein h0me.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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...
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
'then why did you ask?'
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
It was my lack of reaction. It wasn't as scarey or as upsetting as I thought it would be......
??
Sadness.
??
I actually saw a number of dead bodies on Saturday. It was pretty neat.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
Bye Mom.
??
Yes. a few timez. everythng frm sexaul thngz kind fresh n 0ld az durt 2 cleanin at nursein h0me.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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...
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
'then why did you ask?'
??
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.
??
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.
??
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.
??
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!
??
Vomit.
??
I don't want anymore.
??
When the supposedly closest person to you hits road and cops out.
??
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.........
??
My guts tell me .... and the decision that enough is enough ... is clear and easy.
??
Sadly, only when I am totally fu**ing miserable.
??
My body usually tells me when. In ALL situations.
??
Good question, it's sudden and unambiguous, usually after an extended internal struggle: that's it, kaputzky.
??
when I stop
??
When the pain outweighs the benefits
??
When I start to cry in frustration.
??
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.
??
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)
??
You may never know if you keep going back for more.
??
OK> truthfully, I never do know. Life tells me for me.
??
Sparks start flying out of my ears. Or that's what my friends tell me.
??
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.
??
I walk into walls.
??
Oh I'm the wrong person to ask. I can take a lot, usually of things that are bad for me.
??
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).
??
I know when I get the feeling of insincerity, and a very sharp pain in the back of my head saying, "THAT'S IT!!!"
??
Excess usually has its telltale signs.
??
I've had enough.
??
My stomach is my Geiger counter of enough...food, aggravation, worry, obsession, heartache.
??
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.
??
The Hagen Daz container is empty.
??
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.
"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!
??
Vomit.
??
I don't want anymore.
??
When the supposedly closest person to you hits road and cops out.
??
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.........
??
My guts tell me .... and the decision that enough is enough ... is clear and easy.
??
Sadly, only when I am totally fu**ing miserable.
??
My body usually tells me when. In ALL situations.
??
Good question, it's sudden and unambiguous, usually after an extended internal struggle: that's it, kaputzky.
??
when I stop
??
When the pain outweighs the benefits
??
When I start to cry in frustration.
??
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.
??
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)
??
You may never know if you keep going back for more.
??
OK> truthfully, I never do know. Life tells me for me.
??
Sparks start flying out of my ears. Or that's what my friends tell me.
??
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.
??
I walk into walls.
??
Oh I'm the wrong person to ask. I can take a lot, usually of things that are bad for me.
??
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).
??
I know when I get the feeling of insincerity, and a very sharp pain in the back of my head saying, "THAT'S IT!!!"
??
Excess usually has its telltale signs.
??
I've had enough.
??
My stomach is my Geiger counter of enough...food, aggravation, worry, obsession, heartache.
??
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.
??
The Hagen Daz container is empty.
??
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)