power of touch

love language. Everyone has a different love language, how they express affection and emotion, and what they need to feel love and affection from others.

Some people express themselves with sweet talk, compliments, and words of love and admiration. Others express their affections with gifts and tokens and trinkets to their beloved. From material luxuries to flowers, to more practical and mundane seeming gifts, it is their way of showing they care. Still others show their feelings with service, doing things like favors, errands and tasks for the ones they love. This person will fix things that are broken, and go out of their way to find a particular item, or reinstall software on ones computer, taking loads of time to do tedious tasks. But still others need more direct interaction, companionship, shared humor and a sense of mutual intellectual stimulation and reaction to feel bonded.

Some people need an open door to verbally process every thought and emotion with thier companions , friends and beloved, while others need space and quiet mental distance, or intense privacy and extending this same courtesy is their way of showing love and respect. Still others need quiet contact, little touches, and caresses, they are sensory and need to feel the hands and body heat of others to feel connected, to express affection, and to share their love. We are all different, and while most of us are some combination of these and other styles, finding a partner that has the exact same love language is rare.

This is often a complex and overlooked aspect of relationships. But a very important one. Vital I would say. Partners with different love languages may both be doing everything THEY feel expresses love and devotion, and completely miss the other persons ques and signals for the same thing. With out an understanding about each others primary love language and an effort to identify and learn the primary language of the beloved, each person may feel neglected, empty and resentful. A sense of being alone in their intimate relationship, and that their lover is removed or indifferent can destroy any good sentiment.

While we are each very different, touch is a powerful component to affection for most of us, but not everyone. I have dated more then one man for whom touch is strictly reserved for sexual gratification and any other kind of touch or physical contact is almost non-existent. Perhaps this is a "man thing", and the psychology and obvious lack of closeness this suggests, seems lacking and broken to me, and is heart wrenching. But they feel that they are fine as they are and call me clingy. (Incidentally I have also dated men that are far more "clingy" then I).

Still, as a massage therapist and someone who has dedicated my life to sharing safe, positive, non sexual touch, and educating people about the importance of touch and physical expression of compassion, it is a huge hurdle to be in relationship with someone who is NOT touch oriented. Babies die with out touch. Human beings need contact with each other. 8 to 14 hugs a day is considered necessary for good mental and emotional health and well being. This is far more then most of us experience, but I have to think that if we all had this the entire world would be a calmer, happier, safer place, just due to the endorphins and physiological effects that touch produces in the mind and body. Can you imagine it?

Safe, positive touch should be part of everyone's love language in my opinion, for the physiological benefits alone, but the most important thing is that each participant in a relationship feels a sense of reciprocal respect. That they are loved, valued, appreciated, and that their beloved feels the same. Ultimately it is the responsibility of all participants to create a mutually conducive atmosphere of love and loving. This requires openness, communication and willingness to expand ones own language and learn additional forms of expression and interpretation. Unfortunately we cannot make this choice for another, and cannot do it indefinitely alone.

giving up & starting over

You just don't reach 40 something, as a single person with out dragging some baggage. I think when a person finds themselves at this crossroads a certain amount of self assessment is very necessary. Not everyone is cut out for intimate relationships, despite the fact that our society and culture tells us that this is what we are "supposed" to want, do and have. With out the actual Capacity for intimacy no real relationship with another person will be possible or successful.

What is success? Many feel that a relationship that has ended is a relationship that has failed, but that is not always the case. In time, all things end, and we take the gifts and lessons we have learned and hopefully we have changed and grown into a deeper understanding of ourselves as well as humanity and relationships. If we are lucky we heal our wounds instead of becoming bitter or resentful and suspicious, and move forward at least holding the keys to our own baggage if we must drag it in our wake. And sometimes, after a period of integration and processing, a relationship can renew itself and its participants and begin anew with freshness and vitality. Ebb and flow is a natural phenomenon in the cycle of life and death and renewal.

We are a complex species with intellectual knowledge, and the power of conscious thought combined with education, information, and the freedom of choice. And for all our longing, yearning, questioning and fantasy about a significant other, and the ultimate companion, we must each face the truth that we are born alone and will die alone. And while relationships and other people are the most significant thing we can give our lives to, it is a painful journey if undertaken with expectations of anyone other then ourselves. People, men and women both, get some very definitave messages about themselves and each other, and their personal identities that create a lot of problems we spend out lives sorting out. While there was a time when strict gender role identities were a significant part of survival, we have mostly evolved past the need for such hard limitations on our person hood and planetary coexistence.

This becomes even more complex if a person is able to realize they do not resonate with these messages and that they in fact might be gay, or trans, or asexual. The punishment one experiences from society and their own psyches for going against the Normal and perpetuated status quo creates issues and problems for everyone that should not have to happen. But all of that aside, just being a hetro sexual that is 40 and single and hoping to find a real connection with another human being is a difficult thing. By this time we are less flexible, less open minded and less willing to adapt ourselves or our lives for the sake of someone else's comfort or well being. By this time we have been hurt and have regrets. We may be jaded, cynical, and untrusting, with little or no motivation to "fix" or heal this condition, or indeed even see anything wrong with it. Our defense mechanisms are at an all time high, and our capacity for true intimacy is greatly diminished from what it once might have been.

Although these statements are utterly preposterous, it is mind boggeling how many of us internalize and actually live by these kinds of messages in daily life and expression and decisions. "Women are the nurturers." "Men don't talk about feelings." "Women are hormonal and emotional." "Men don't cry." "Women are angels or tramps". "A good woman thinks only of others, never herself." "A good man has to be the provider." "Men are never soft or vulnerable." "Women are the weaker sex." "All men are children". "All woman are crazy" "men don't express their emotions." "Women are not logical." ... all of these messages are a part of mainstream society and our daily thinking and belief systems, and ALL of them are preposterous and extremely damaging to our collective psyches. So, what can we do about it? How can we begin to change these ideas for ourselves and our children and the betterment of the world.

http://thisibelieve.org/essay/45586/

All things end

"Reece" and "Byron" had been together forever. Well that is how it seemed to most of us. I myself had been married and divorced twice, and raised a child in the time they were still going strong, living the dream. When she came to see me the other day and said they were breaking up I was floored. She had been my model for how to make it work.

They were both fiercely independent loners, and had no children. I was closer to them then most and had watched as they lived the dream in their twenties traveling around in a big converted bus. And in their thirties, when she realized he was never gonna want children and that she had to make a choice. They lived "off the grid for a few years while she got her Bachelor of Arts and secured her dream job. In their forties they had saved for several years and bought an adorable three bedroom house in a prime location just before the economy collapsed around us all.

I was partially responsible for introducing them, and our old group of friends had all looked to them for an example of how to be happy, healthy, loving, long term partners. They were the last of the old group still together, the rest of us had wandered away in search of ourselves and fairer weather. Once, about a year ago, I had asked Byron how they did it, how they made it work and stayed happy and together for so long. He sort of started, and said in all seriousness "Its all Reece. She's amazing." I knew it seemed like she did everything in their relationship, but I figured there is always the side of things one doesn't see between two people.

Her amazing patience, and tolerance and ability to detach and let go of his moodiness and distance was awe inspiring. Her little way of sighing and laughing with a somber little smile when I asked her anything about the two of them and making it work, led me to believe that perhaps I had unrealistic expectations of men and relationships. It wasn't out of the question. After all, our culture does not provide us with realistic positive examples of men or of women. Sitcoms are filled with snide and sarcasm, and dramas are emotionally distant from real loving between couples, seeming to center around work relationships instead.

There is no workable model. Old world relationships seem based on strong gender roles that leave both people unfulfilled and women feeling empty and taken for granted. And the men of my own generation all seem like broken, overgrown children, waiting for mommy to clean up after them, and make them cozy, while they fantasize about threesomes with porn stars. It is easy to see why so many people are queer, NOT that I think its really a choice, but the clean slate of less rigid rules and expectations would seem easier. I know it is not. As my own daughter said: "All relationships end, and everyone has dirty laundry. If you're gonna have sex, you will have to wash the sheets."

Relationships are complicated no matter how you look at them. If we are in one we seem to want to change it. If we are outside of one we seem to think we can tolerate anything for the right other, just to not have to face eternity alone.We want a lot from our relationships these days and its got me wondering if arranged marriages might not be healthier and more realistic. True partnerships based on communication, respect, politeness and discreet love affairs. Why make sex a part of that?

Because in today's world we want more. We want the freedom to choose who we love, and who we marry or spend our lives with. We want a lover, and a best friend. We want passion and kindness, we want someone who will make up for how our parents didn't treat us right, but uphold all the ways in which they did. We want EROS and AGAPE. We want a companion, and a confidant and a sexually exciting human plaything. Perhaps we are all unrealistic and delusional. Yet our society and culture reinforces this desire in each of us, constantly searching for that one person who can complete us.

The truth is no one can fill that void. Once we've been through some stuff, and had a few relationships fail, we begin to realize this. Even without being particularly introspective of completing years of therapy most of us are aware. Yet we are compulsive and occasionally obsessive and continue to seek it on some level anyway. Sometimes I wish I did like women so I wouldn't have to face being let down by men. Even if my expectations are unrealistic how can I change that? How can I find that one other person on the same wavelength in the vast sea of modern stress and coping in which our country is swimming?

I realize that its time to reassess what I want, what I can give, and where to draw the boundary lines that protect and nurture myself, because I have begun to wonder if any of us is really cut out for a healthy, loving relationship that lasts. If romantic relationships are even meant to last or just a part of the biological mating dance. Most people say their kids are the loves of their life. I can't argue with that, but who wants to only ever be second best to someone? Perhaps being alone is healthier, and certainly for as complicated and unromantic as it seems, a lot of my poly-amourous friends seem a lot less miserable.

I still want to believe in the fairy tale of true love. that a commitment sets one free in ways that being alone or poly-amorous never can with trust, personal growth intimacy and vulnerability. But who writes these rules? its just the expected Norm that we have been fed by a puritanical society based on their fears and religious ideals. An ancient form of crowd control that got way out of hand. "So we sit here in our storm and drink a toast to the slim chance of loves recovery".

And I watch in awe once again, as "Reece" draws a line in the sand and begins the long slow process of separating from her partner of twenty years, to reinvent herself and finally focus on her own life instead of being a caretaker for a man that needs a mommy maid to run his life, and household; and I think maybe my inability to put up with it was not so far fetched after all. It's all about choices. Choices and timing. Its not really about how much love. The truth is we can learn to love anyone with kindness, consistency and proximity, but taking care of ourselves and doing our real work on the planet cannot wait till were dead.

Without my role model I am floundering without a map, and wondering where to go from here. Once again I get to step up and figure it out. In the end I find out that Reece had "had enough" of her time and care and energy not being reciprocated. And that seems a lot like justice to me. Not for Reece perhaps, at least not now, but in the grand scheme. Justice, fairness and reciprocal respect are vital for relationship success.

Hunger -part ll

SO WHAT HAPPENS WHEN WE DON'T GET FED? When we are unable or unskilled at knowing how to feed this different kind of hunger, when we do not have the support, or resources to help us grow to point of exploring and figuring it out we suffer. I has been referred to by Shakti Gawain as a Spiritual Emergency. Falling together can feel an awful lot like falling apart.

Ultimately the human spirit will triumph, and growth, evolution, and expansion of out understanding or consciousness will occur, but in our tiny, impatient human time frame, this journey that has no directions, or road map and for some, no mentors can seem like and intolerable or nearly impossible interim to navigate. Depression seems a natural response.

With out a way to identify or feed this different kind of hunger, many will turn to food in an attempt to fill the aching void, the ever increasing hole inside them selves that no food will ever really satisfy, but the emotional sensation can be the same making it harder still to identify. Especially with no framework or vocabulary in place, and no references to this kind of growth in our popular culture. So we eat and eat because our hunger is real, then we perpetuate the problem by obsessing about our weight, our looks, and the unrealistic, unattainable, media induced standards we have set and perpetuated for ourselves and our children keeping us in a constant state of feeling inadequate and unable to ever measure up.

The result? A lot of overweight, or weight obsessed, and unhappy people, who seem emotionally detached and indifferent, and mentally preoccupied with seemingly trivial ideals. an entire culture or subculture of addicts, be it drugs, alcohol, tobacco, marijuana, electronics, porn, or just plain rude and sarcastic behavior. Perhaps the greatest danger is the normalization of these behaviors, this particular state of existence. An entire culture or society so warped into their painkilling behaviors and lifestyles, that our children are growing up in a society incapable of true intimacy. Who suffers? We do, us, Everyone. The entire world suffers when so many souls are lost to oblivion, and our children are born and raised into this intolerable and dysfunctional way of living.

To those of use who have unknowingly helped shape this unfortunate society with its loose morals and lack of soul nourishing values, this situation is more tolerable. After all, we have been part of the problem, and who wants to wake up, own up and admit to that? But our children are suffering. To them this artificial satisfaction that we perpetuate is less tolerable, and unrealistic, and unachievable, they are starving. The result is an increase in childhood disorders from A. D. D., to depression, to cutting, to crime, to suicide. Our children are under so much pressure to conform to unrealistic, media induced standards of artificial normalcy that they are literally killing themselves trying to fit in with it. It is our fault, and all we can do is be gentle with ourselves and each other, and begin to make different choices as often as we can, supporting each other along the way.

( some sources: Harvard University Study: "Dying to Fit In", New age speakers Patricia Sun, Melody Beattie, Marianne Williamson, "Women who run with the Wolves" by Clarissa, Pinkola Estes, Living in the Light, by Shakti Gawain, and multiple digital media sources.)

hunger

There is a place within each of us that burns with hunger. Not for food, but for recognition, for challenge, for support, for discovery, and for a chance to shine.

Often we don't get a chance to indulge or explore that facet of ourselves because of other, more basic demands: food, shelter, protection, and a sense of belonging or of family at a base chakra level of existence. To be replaced with a need for expression, recognition, connection, intimacy with another and finally sexual gratification at the second chakra level of consciousness.

Some people spend most of their lives and attention on these things, by circumstance or training, by Nature or by Nurture, missing the whole picture of other realms of existence. Many people living and existing at this level of understanding about reality, are often doubtful that "higher realms" of consciousness can have value, because their capacity to comprehend what is valuable hinges on ideals framed by the level of comprehension they are unknowingly trapped at. They seek concrete material evidence. Material reality of houses, ho's, cars, and shiny toys, yet even with this treasure trove they are not truly happy. The feeling persists that something is still missing.

To someone who knows No other possibility of reality, or satisfaction this is the only thing that CAN make sense: Better MUST be more, bigger, stronger, faster, harder, or have a larger price tag. period. There is simply no other possibility to this person. Until their ability to comprehend has a chance to evolve organically through insight or experience, argument is pointless since it only threatens their sense of reality and what is possible to the point of seeming unrealistic and fool hardy.

Perhaps I am awful, and I am indeed arrogant, because I truly pity these people. I pity them, but it is no longer with anger, or judgement, but with compassion and a desire to open a window and share a wider sense of possibility. I want to bridge the gap, to open the door of understanding and turn the light on for those willing to consider that there is more to life and reality than anyone can know, even those of us who pride ourselves on exploring and expanding our own understanding of potential and possibility. I cannot make anyone Choose more, but I hope can help them see that perhaps there is more to consider and to choose from, if they are willing. This is my calling.

At some point in life, when the time and conditions are right, we all get an opportunity to see beyond tribal and family mind. Eventually those basic needs are sated, or fulfilled and still we yearn. We hunger for something we may not even be able to identify. We long for something more, and with out an example to strive towards or a language to identify and placate these unformed desires we are at a greater risk of doing something dire, or unintentionally propagating avoidance and numbing behaviors which contribute negatively to the self, the family and society: like drug abuse, depression, cruelty, aloofness, shutting down, bitterness, sarcasm, inventing drama, picking fights, or projecting our own unidentified limitations onto others and persecuting them for not living with in our own ill-defined parameters of "how it should be". We become a part of the problem in our struggle to be free of it.

This is a struggle with the self. Basic third chakra identity issues that we must all come to at some point in our journey. A common place for most of us to get stuck and to flounder. A place where our greatest strengths might prove to be our greatest weaknesses, and these traits we've never developed or given voice to, might be the very ones that lift us to a new level of insight or understanding. Confidence might become arrogance, compassion may become victimized, and being reserved may become apathetic. It is a place where everyone else seems to be "doing it wrong", when really it is our own ceiling of understanding and insight that is cracking up and getting ready to expand. Ultimately we can only change our selves and our own point of view and ways of looking at and relating to another or an experience. Something we are trained earlier on to resist at all costs.

The tribal or family mind teaches us to adapt our selves and our desires, beliefs and behaviors to get along for the good of the tribe. But self hood and self actualization comes at the cost of rejecting not only some of the families values but the closed way of viewing outside information, of judging "others"; be it lifestyle, choices, motivations, belief systems, which might look like politics, religion, or gender identification. All hot buttons to humans struggling with base chakra level issues. But a vital place of open mindedness and exploration, compassion, and consideration on the road to whole person-hood, and self
actualization.

Trashing The Dress

I recently received this letter from my pen pal...


Hello, Autumn is in the air here. The evenings are getting darker, the trees are changing colour and some are dropping leaves. The apples and fruit are ripe and ready to pick, the harvest has been gathered. Frost cannot be far off now, the nights are already feeling cold.

Still, the autumn ploughing, which has just started has got it's interests. I have just got back from a cold, wet field nearby, watching it being ploughed and a rather strange local event. A Trashing the Dress party.

This is a very odd sort of celebration. So far as I know it is a tradition particular to the very far north of Scotland. I have never heard of anything similar elsewhere in the UK. The tradition is strong here though and seems to be growing more so. If you look in the windows of local photographers shops you will see the usual wedding, baby and other photos, as well as trashing the dress pictures.

It seems that, once a woman is well and truly married. Once she is sure she will never again need her wedding dress. She has the choice of putting it away in her wardrobe, never to see daylight again unless she can pass it on to her daughter. Assuming she has one. Assuming the dress will fit the girl. Assuming the dress is still fashionable. Assuming the daughter wants to wear it. Or, she can trash it!

This seems to be then a public statement made by a young married woman, but never explicitly expressed, that she is now happily married and will not be seeking another husband. So, she gathers her friends and relatives together as witnesses, as well as a photographer. Then she puts on her wedding dress and goes and does something that will utterly destroy it, so that it is fit for nothing but the 'rag and bone man'.

Today the young lady arrived wearing a lovely, full length gown with a short train. She had a little posy of flowers in her hands an a veil, thrown back over her head to reveal her face and held in place by a simple band. She had a pair of pretty white shoes on, with dainty high heels. Also white stockings, a baby ble garter and a little white thong. I know, because she posed for us with her skirts lifted high. Just for the photographer you understand.

Anyway. The field was being ploughed. It was rough, since the ground had only just been turned. It was also very wet, since it was raining overnight. The tractor pulled up alongside the young lady. The plough had been unhooked. In it's place a heavy, knotted rope had been fixed to the tow hook. The bride picked up the knotted rope and hung on tight as the tractor set off slowly across the muddy field. The young woman had no choice but to follow. In moments she had lost a shoe, stuck in the mud. Moments later she broke the heel off the other shoe, so kicked it off and continued barefoot. Her dress by now was getting very muddy around the skirts whilst the tractor wheels were throwing up mud all over her bodice. Soon her stockings were shredded as she walked through the foot. Finally she staggered, falling to her knees in the plough furrows. The tractor continued it's slow progress though. So, a moment later, she was pulled onter her chest, to be dragged slowly through the sticky soil for some 20ft or so. Finally, she let go of the rope. She struggled to her feet and, amidst loud applause and the flash of camera flashguns, she stumbled to the edge of the field.

An odd ceremony. Great fun to watch though. I couldn't help feeling it was a bit kinky too. There were elements of public humiliation, exhibitionism and messy play in all this.

Or perhaps that is just seeing things from my kinky perspective. Perhaps it is in fact simply an endearing pagan ritual.

Do you have anything similar in nature on the far side of the atlantic? Is this simply a bit of British madness?

the dog days are over

Today my dog killed a chicken, and fatally injured another. Once a dog gets the taste of blood, he will always kill again. They were our own chickens, not some belonging to an irate, country neighbor, but it is a grief filled event, a turning point in my sense of self and family. While waiting to see if the second one will pull through, my heart is thick in my throat and my bowels unsettle my stomach far to much for the dinner I so carefully prepared. The grief and anger of the lost chickens will pass, but letting go of my dog is a tragic event that propels me further into a sense of isolation and abandonment, a sense that has been growing inside of me for a a long slow descent of years now, into unknown territory.

This is the only dog I have ever owned, The only pet to be with me through thick and thin besides to many cats to count. I love cats, but they come and go. This dog has been with me a while, he outlasted one marriage, five major moves and three extreme life transitions. He isn't even very old, merely seven years, six of the hardest ones I have ever lived through. This dog is MY DOG! My only dog, ever, not some animal I befriended because of a sister, spouse, or child. Not a temporary favor to a lost or couch surfing friend, but MY dog. I even had a doctors prescription once to keep him in my apartment building because he calmed my anxiety and motivated me to get out of bed in the morning during the depths of depression.


Lets dissect the effects of this monumental decision:
The dog has been such a mixed blessing all along, but he helped me to escape the isolation of being alone when first my daughter then my husband left me holding the pieces of the life I had tried so hard to build for us all after numerous, financial disasters. The Dog still loved me, was still excited about the craziest little things and still stuck his cold nose on me to get me up when the cat wanted in.

The dog held me together in the darkest days, and over the years helped me make new friends everywhere I went. My eventual popularity was largely due to my very out going and friendly dog who could melt the coldest most uptight seeming colleagues into instant allies. The dog is the last of my deepest, sense of family. The dog was a rescue with abandonment issues of his own, and abandoning him again leaves a hole in my chest that abandons a part of my self as well. Giving up my dog, feels like giving up ON my dog, having him taken away creates a further sense of alone-ness inside of me, a place no person fills. Dog spelled backwards is God. I feel I owe him more.

On the flip side:
In many ways letting go of my dog is one more link to a past I am more then ready to move away from and cut the remaining ties too. I am in a new life now, with a new and loving partner, whom I adore. I often feel the shadow of His hurtful past looming between us, I certainly don't want anything else contributing to that insecurity. Sending the dog to the next loving owner, someone who has the time and resources to care for him frees me to pursue the things I have felt calling my spirit, tugging at my sense of longing. It suggests the ability to pursue the fickle mistress of adventure whenever she calls me to travel, or chase a rainbow for my writing, or explore some new and exotic experience in my own backyard.

Letting go of the dog takes the pressure off my partner to care for both of our dogs when I go on an art binge!During those times I barely eat or sleep for days because I simply must write, or paint or chase ghosts and aliens, or walk weird lines on the road, and count stars, or headlights, or pine cones to better understand some obsession that has fired my imagination. When this state of mind overtakes me everything else in life falls to the wayside, the housework, dog walks, food preparation; anyone living with me counts themselves lucky if we actually have toilet paper in the house during those brief bursts of gestation and productivity. Having one less, very demanding dog could be a blessing. But what about the other lonely dog?

Nothing lasts forever. Everything in this life is temporary. Having been through two failed marriages, and reinventing myself and my identity and my persona almost as many times as Madonna, I of all people know this. But as a sentimental person with no sense of having been valued or nurtured as a child, I have no sense of roots other then the ones I have attempted to create myself and had ripped away time and time again. The child in me resists and objects, but then gives up the fight and simply goes numb. Reflecting the feelings of any child faced with repeated loss and no sense of control, "why care about anything? everyone leaves. Why care or be vulnerable to anyone at all?"

This train of thought brings me to a deeper and more direct understanding of what is happening in the head and heart of a special little girl that I know. And as I make that association I cannot help but think this tragic seeming event might just be the answer to a prayer I made recently. A prayer to somehow help her find peace and relieve the grief and anger that weighs so heavy on her and lies between her and the people in her world. Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't. The Divine works in ways that surpass our limited understanding but the odd idea of it all at least brings me back to an odd sense of hope, and purpose in the universe. I should know better then to resist change by now.

Jasper has helped to answer so many prayers from the first day he came to me. Beltane. April 30th at dusk. A deliberate gift from Hecate' the goddess energy of crossroads, transformation and change. A powerful and sometimes dark goddess, but one that wears the three faces of fate. Fate tells us that the only constant in life is change, and it is the only thing we can really count on. We can count on it but we cannot control or really even direct it. All we can do is get good at surfing the wave. Thank You Hecate'. I surrender.

summer romance

All summer I told Neal that the garden would have to be at the top of the property because of the progression of the sun during the year. We are still learning a lot about each other: Its so cute to watch him shuffle through his own ideas about these kinds of things,for weeks or months before coming to the same conclusions I did in the first 5 minutes.

Particularly because HE is so freaking Brilliant about so many things! -Especially medically and physiologically (you should be taking more iron, blah blah blah) -and actually RIGHT more then I AM -the dang lemon butt! -don't tell him I said that!. I am NOT used to being wrong very often. Of course I believe there is more then one point of view of reality that is 100% valid at any time, so maybe more then one point of view is right. Still I am learning how to be wrong sometimes. ouch.

But Neal is still learning about my instant and surprisingly accurate assessments of people, places and things (like physical science and spatial awareness)... I think he is used to always being right as well, So I get yet another lesson in patience. aaggh. -ain't love grand? But really it is. We certainly don't get bored with each other even when everything else is boring. Learning about oneself and a beloved other is what we're here for, right? What we all say we want in our relationships... LOL

The flip side is that my friend Benjamin tells me frequently that I already have the "Patience of a Saint"... gave me my own Nickname: "Saint Mesopotamia". So there is a place of balance, although it feels crazy, since Neal frequently accuses me of being the most impatient person he has ever met. How is it that somehow they are both right? Because they are. They are both right.

Next Steps

After a year long exploration into culture and humanity and what makes us tick: the basic observations of human nature and the ideas sparked, I am on a new journey.

my next blog is less tame, more convoluted with less definition of rules and propriety. Join me in the Crazy little thing Called love (Blogged as "The Love Thing"), as I begin to research and explore the messy, delicious, and occasionally frightening world of human sexuality, kink, and the emotional roller coaster of love, sex, and dating VS keeping the spark in longer term relationships...

http://the-love-thing.blogspot.com/


Thanks for reading, and following my meandering thoughts. Please feel free to email me your thoughts, ideas and responses to ANY of my blogs or material.

The year in Review

Its been a time of adventure, and growth, a time of discovery, reflection and integration. A time of forming new relationships, associations and dreams, while learning to let go of old ones, and surrender to the flow of life beyond our own petty foresight or control.

Focused on Ceremonies and Celebrations in the fall of 2010, I wondered into observing, recognizing and creating Rites of Passage in the Winter. I finished the Spring of 2011 with a closer look at Rituals in a variety of settings and social groups, and the Roles we each play in every day life: parent, child, teacher, student, expert, novice, party dude.... I focused on the Rituals/performance of these Roles and in a variety of venues: parades, creating art, musicianship, professionalism at different kinds of jobs,learning and practicing new skills: relaxation, fire dancing,etc. I ended the year with a focus on the theater to better explore all of these themes in a concentrated environment.

The theater experience was much as described in a previous post. Filled with frustration and head aches as the opening night drew near, then filled with boredom, repetition and ritualistic behaviors in action as it ran its course. In the end, everyone loves everyone, and the memories are built and solidified into the grander definition of shared experience, common ground for future connections. Finally relegated to the past, they are placed carefully away into the trunks in the attic of the mind where nostalgia festers its sentiments.

As usual on this kind of journey, there were tantrums and hurt feelings sometimes, there were quitters and those who pushed through to carry the load. There were romances and extraneous flirtations and "Show Crushes." I was able to thoroughly enjoy mine, and delight in the brilliant sexiness of Tyler delivering the lines of his multiple characters with style and panache. Erin as the sultry cat was a delight as well. The lights, the music, the predictability of when to rush to the side stage to see who perform what...I was able to enjoy this wild ride with a new understanding that I hadn't brought to my theatrical experiences previously.

A show crush for example is Just that. A show crush. A strong sense of attraction brought on by camaraderie and proximity, combined with a spark of attraction, and mutual admiration. Sometimes people act on it, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes they savor it for exactly what it is, a delicious attraction that will remain at later meetings, if left as is. I now see those young teenage obsessions I once indulged, in a whole new light. Thanks Tiger! The theater, the theater. I am so glad to be back in the folds of the theater, with its bizarre freaks and non judgmental people of immense talent, self reflection, and humanity. HONK.

What money can't buy

Ten experiences I LOVE that money can’t buy.

Walking through old overgrown alley ways
Finding Feathers, shells, and pretty rocks
The smell of the earth on a warm spring night
Crunching snow or gravel after it rains
Slow, cold mornings with a hot lover
Twilight evenings in summer that stretch for hours
Watching the birds swoop and call over the sea or the sound
Fresh, crunchy, Line dried laundry
Making music with anything, and a friend or partner
Being a positive force in the lives of others
Driving anywhere in the sunshine with great music, someone I love, and all the windows down (does this one count? – it does cost a little bit of money for gas)

BALANCED SENSE OF SELF

How to do it. How to let myself enjoy and bask in the wonder of new found love and the simple organic, hearty goodness of such a healthy and robust thing, while maintaining that part of myself that is separate and whole and growing, striving, changing and yearning for recognition in my own right. I have often given up myself for the love of another, a husband, child, or parent. It is something we learn as children to survive and attempt to get our needs met in the face of poverty, abuse, trauma, grief, neglect and circumstance. Most of us have this tendency in modern life, depending on the amount of independence that was deliberately fostered by our parental units. Usually they wanted our cooperation so, independence was not always valued as highly, depending on our individual family groups, heritage and circumstance.

My goal now is to learn and practice newer, healthier ways to see, appreciate and relate to my partner, while exercising the discipline, and judgment I need to meet my individual goals and achieve my independent hopes and dreams within the context of a larger shared life, shared goals, shared dreams. There is so much to learn, and relearn, so many skills to polish and dig out from the trenches of bygone days and old coping patterns. There are so many options for communication, listening, respecting and functioning to dust off and brush up on. A new relationship is yet another new beginning, another opportunity to reinvent oneself, ones ways of relating to an intimate other, and to exercise both generosity and boundary setting. Respect and self-respect. The ultimate thing we all struggle to find balance with. Selfishness and generosity, graciousness and a healthy sense and expression of loving.

Some ideas. While our goal is to share a domicile making our silly twice weekly trek to one another’s homes, less ludicrous, there are some advantages to several days together and several days apart. For one I can focus only on the senses and how very much I like my new man, as a person, as a friend, as a lover, when I am with him, and then completely immerse myself in my own world and work and social circle when we are apart. I don’t have to worry about how late I stay up, or what time dinner should be when I am on my own, and there is a liberation in that that I don’t want to surrender… But as it stands, when I am immersed in his life and his world, there is very little of my own life around, so achieving balance while in that end of the seesaw or pendulum is extremely unlikely if possible, until we do move in together and each have our own life-in-full while immersed in cohabitation.

How do I want it to be? A home together that meets both person’s real needs. So we must identify needs verses wants… So one of the things I have to ask is what are MY wants, my needs for myself? For my ideal relationship, and my goals for and from myself with in that context… I am working really hard to please Him and doing my own thing too and the balance is bizarre. Simply because I am somewhat unaccustomed to it. So can I strike a balance in myself? Use my left side, my intuition and my own honorary identity within my own sense of value and desires. Can I maintain it? Can I keep both simultaneously? Is it truly the ultimate in multi-tasking?

There is some evidence which suggests my intensity, my OCD tendencies, is what has cost me important relationships in the past and yet, there is also a deeper sense of destiny here, of purpose, of opportunity. Why have I been fighting it all during the loss and regenerating time of my own growth and transition. How do I maintain command over myself and allow myself to swim in the waters of peaceful, nourishing plenty and affection. Basking in the lap of sensory, experiential living as I long to. A place reserved from the self I share in the main stream and preserved in itself from harsh labels or judgment. I feel a bit Like Anias Nin. On the threshold of a lifestyle, a system I have circled around for years, only I am no longer just dipping my toes in the water…

Once again in my life, I find myself at a place that keeps me pushing the envelope of my own sense of terror, like a chaos junkie or adrenaline freak, I don’t know how to calm down emotionally, unless we are apart completely or he is actually touching me. It is heady, cloudy and the direct chemical response from my brain is tangible in the physiology and emotional components of my perceptions and reactions. I am like an affection starved beast, but I am learning to feel safe on such a deep level and I am probably rushing my emotional self, wanting to drench myself in every bit of him. Typical, how else do I know how to do anything except to just dive right in, mistakes and all, risking playing the fool!

If there is one thing I know how to do after the life I’ve lived, it is to take risks, to win sometimes and to lose a lot. But to settle into successful attainment, bridging the gap of preserving and maintaining the quality I have busted my back and ass, and neck to recognize is something my attention span or nature seems mutually exclusive to doing. I am good at beginnings, many people are, and it is good to learn new habits but it is also good to face our fears. So how fast or slow is the right pace? We want to add quality back to our lives and our sense of self but how do we regulate a healthy level of interacting with our new found sense of quality and the expanded, sense of capacity to appreciate quality and a sense of wonder and safety and well being when it is something we’ve seen very little of.

I am reminded of the journey up Hwy 58, to Hwy 97 between Eugene Oregon, and Klamath Falls. There is a small town called Oakridge nestled in the western foothills of the Cascades. On the edge of town, there is a historic milestone, recognizing the pioneers who came to this town on the Oregon trail. The story is that they followed a new trail, and got a bit lost; many starved to death before they made if through the mountains. Once they got to the town they were greeted with a big pancake feed. Many of the survivors, actually gorged themselves to death. Literally ate themselves to death because the starvation physiology was advanced, and desensitized them to the feelings of being sated, fed, or full. It was literally death by pancakes, because they didn’t know how to stop after being so hungry for so long.

So like the starving people that finally found salvation and false sense of safety when they reached Oakridge, we enter new, seemingly harmless territory situations with the desire to take what seems so freely offered and abundant, and gorge ourselves on every nuance, every flavor, every variety of delicious sustenance offered. One sees this phenomenon again and again, the same theme dancing before our world weary eyes and hearts and stimulating our salivating sense. Janice Joplin, and John Belushi overdosed on drugs with no way to censor or regulate the experiences they felt starved to indulge. People experience and fill this void in almost as many ways as there are people. With drugs, alcohol, food, work, sex, internet, religion, gossip, affection, electronics.

The flavors of the choices are endless, but the act, the hunger, the addiction, the sense of emptiness and unrestrained desire to alleviate its ache, remain the same. We don’t always know what enough looks or feels like, and seem to stay hungry regardless of how much we have or get or share, wanting more and more, like a once feral cat come home. At what point do we calm down and relearn our own perceptions and a sense of trust? How do we learn to feel the signals of enough, beneath the panic and frenzied need to feed? I think the answer lies in our ability to be discerning, to recognize and add quality back to our lives, and the moment we are in at any given time.

A sense of QUALITY

Perhaps even more than a sense of purpose we NEED A SENSE OF QUALITY, perhaps they go hand in hand. In much of modern America, our lives are filled with busyness, with tasks, goals and endless varieties of detailed accomplishments, sometimes for self, sometimes for others but so frequently devoid of a deeper meaning or bridging a deeper connection to humanity or existence. We are squirming on the edge of our own awareness and consciousness trying to grow. Yet we are pressed against the glass ceiling of our cultural or familial beliefs, and our understanding of the world and reality, squandering our time, energy and attention.

If we are lucky we have guides and mentors that clue us into a deeper sense of well being and coping mechanisms, and the abstract unseen factors of life that provide a framework for the events we see around us, the choices we make and the actions of ourselves and others. If we are not so fortunate, we spend our lives feeling hollow, hungry and never quite understanding that the thing we seek is not outside of ourselves, in lives incidents and experiences, but something we bring to the table ourselves, an intent we carry within ourselves and infuse into our perceptions and expectations for and of ourselves.

Sometimes even when we have learned this lesson, life has a way of testing us and making us prove it, relearn it, demonstrate our understanding, the quality really is up to us, but we don’t often realize or know how to go about claiming and creating it. The purpose of the project and blog has been to explore these ideas in a practical experiential way, that perhaps inspires, dissects, and shines a light onto how to realize our vital participation in quality. We explore quality VS quantity in a number of areas from materialism to relationships, to esoteric functioning.

We discover the importance and process of inventing or reinventing ones self-ness after significant loss or trauma. But perhaps the most significant theme explored is the link between a lack of ritual, rites of passage and the depression and lack of meaning in modern north American society at large; the tiny things in life from which we have extracted, normalized and removed significance, which when that meaning is acknowledged makes tiny rites of passage in the lives of everyone of us, if we choose it.

Modern Life: A Balancing Act

Modern life is full of demands and we must choose which ones we will give precedence to, because no one can meet them all. As a skill of survival we must all learn to say NO not that, to a few things, but we must also make sure that our priorities are where we think they are. Do we claim to want a deep relationship and then throw all of our time and energy into our jobs or how well our furniture matches? These are not bad things, but one must prioritize for what is truly important to oneself. Not what the rest of the world seems to tell us we should prioritize (whiter laundry? Really?).

Prioritizing is also skill. Another skill that most of us were not taught to well. It can be extremely helpful to actually list the most important elements of your identity or lifestyle or goals and actually number the top five for yourself. Things like Job, education, looking great, being healthy, time with friends, goofing off, eating healthy, great sex, good parenting, a fun healthy relationship, a bigger house. You get the idea. Now choose only five to really focus on the most. Increasing quality of life really is about simplifying. Quantity is only a replacement for quality when we don’t know what quality looks or feels like. Typical of our arrogant western emptiness. Now ask yourself: Do you make time for these top five things or do you squander it on things or people you claim are less important? This is not a list you have to show anyone or try to justify in any way, but the result might just be surprising.

Life! The Amazing Bittersweet Adventure

A new experience is a journey of sorts, like a road trip. Yes you want to get to San Fran, or Seattle, or Elmer Idaho, but the journey is often the best part of the trip, it’s the adventure of the unknown, and what happens along the way to the destination that you remember and retell in the years to come. The way you and your cohorts handled those unforeseen little events becomes the stuff of future legend. Love too, is a journey, so many things in our lives are journeys, and for many of us it is nearly impossible not to mentally rush ahead to the destination, the hoped for outcome. We may not even realize we are doing it, but many of us go so far as to plan out a script of what should happen when and how, forgetting that true partnership means relinquishing half of the control to the other person and risking being open to their preferences and speed of doing or not doing anything. A real relationship requires a deep friendship, and constantly increasing trust and vulnerability to succeed.

Love is not possible without trust, certainly a happy and fulfilling relationship is not. And yet, trust can be hard to come by for those who don’t know what it should look like. We’ve all heard the poetic yearning of Shakespeare and Christopher Marlow, and have some very archetypal ideals of what we think love SHOULD look like. But we are often wrong, and those intensely burning flights of fancy and fantasy, more often than not burn out or come from a hunger that ultimately must be fulfilled in the self rather than the externalized desire to be completed by another. In other words, the dark passions we come to associate with romantic, and literary love are often the most unhealthy types, doomed to disappointment and failure before they begin… search your experiences, you probably know this to be at least partly true in your own past, even if it was back in high school.

So what does healthy love look and feel like? How can we create something we have so few models for? Many of us fear that leaving the dark romanticism behind may doom us to a life without passion, adventure or excitement. But perhaps it’s just a matter of perspective. When ones way of looking at life, love, experience, and expectation is limited or slanted from a very tightly controlled point of view the possibilities may seem limited or very black and white, good or bad, either/or. That is a sure sign we are stuck in a rut and NOT seeing the whole picture of possibilities.

There are a thousand, thousand things we can do, and ways for a fun, healthy, loving relationship to unfold, be it a new romance, a new job, a new creative partnership or professional association. There is NO script, and that may be the scariest thing of all. We like to have a sense of control over our lives and the things that matter to us, and interactions with another person that stirs our deepest most uncontrollable emotions is something many of us do not know how to do with open, loving, vulnerability.

We’ve all been hurt, we have all been through some stuff, we’ve all been wrong in our judgment, or expectations at least once. And it is this fear, this unhealed resentment that clogs the flow of our trust and the new opportunities to do it differently. We really do have a choice, and sometimes, the less choice we SEE, the more choices we actually have, but it takes courage, strength and dedication to step outside of our comfort zone and allow things to unfold in real time, present NOW. Sometimes Risking Trust is a moment by moment struggle, as we build new synapses and ways to relate to new situations.

We are so incredible blessed to have this opportunity of choice. Again and again. To choose to see things without the scars and wounds of the past coloring our perspective with bitterness. And if we miss it, or mess it up, it comes around again in a different guise, a different coat, a new day. There is no rush. We can put it off as long as we wish and it will present itself over and over in newly profound ways each time, until we finally trust LIFE enough to leap, even when we have forgotten how to trust ourselves, or our own judgement. Eventually we lean to not judge what comes to us.

Eventually we stop overthinking what we perceive, even if it is just for a moment and our hearts are heard without the cluttered scripts they mind lays down from past synapses and accumulated experience. Throw it out! Be here Now. Feel your way forward, and don’t worry about the destination so much. Life is all about the quality of your journey. We will all got there in the end, regardless of the road we take. Don’t be afraid of a few bumps and bruises, you can take them. You were designed for the daring adventure that is life, and fear itself is worse than anything that may have once set it in motion. Get help! Therapy doesn’t carry the daunting label of being somehow inadequate that it once did. Modern life is difficult, and we all need help coping from time to time; to learn HOW to heal, to see differently and to truly be fearless. It is your own wonderful, joy filled life that your fear is preventing, and that isn’t about anyone else but you. You deserve a joy filled life that you fill with love and NO one can give it to you but you. One baby step at a time.

Ultimately the biggest adventure has an element of the unknown as what truly makes it worthwhile and trans-formative. The right person, often is NOT the person we want the most, no matter how much we desire it to be so and go our own way. That would be one sided, and fantasy like, in other words unrealistic and Not healthy.

The right person is the one who meets you where you are, authentically, and whom you respect enough to allow and appreciate a different perspective and opinion from. The right person agrees to go on the journey with you, step by step, with a lot of courage and honesty, un-contrived. You sense in a very deep and calm place the truth of trustworthiness in them, and the desire to always be forthcoming and trustworthy yourself. From this space of respect, and vulnerability and willingness to be open to whatever the other person brings to the table, Love grows deeper, and passion only increases with time and trust. This then is the fairy tale that the other thing looks like it should be. We don’t really choose the right person, we simply recognize them when the time is right.

Blessed Be your Journey.

FREEDOM

I have begun to be comfortable dwelling in place of question. A place where answers don’t always present themselves in the form of hard, definable facts that fit neatly unto a shelf for easy filing and future reference. Like proof that my assessments are correct, infallible and therefore more valid, like a suit of armor and self-righteousness that I can hold before me. As if being verbally correct or having the ammunition to win an argument makes me better. Instead I am learning to be at peace with the unknown the perpetual question answered by further questions that suggest a more versatile and flexible life.

I realize I don’t have to be a rigid steel beam to be strong or safe, or validated in my thoughts, feeling, beliefs or choices. Rigidity is weak in the end. It is the supple dance of the willow, bending, twisting in the wind and weather, always moving, flowing, changing and responding that holds true strength and grace and beauty. From this lace of generosity and graciousness I have the true opportunity to connect with others and to truly value and receive them, instead of stubbornly shaping them the fit my needs, my agendas. It is here that I am truly self-reliant, all indignation evaporated, all neediness subdued and channeled to more appropriate venues. I am soft, strong, approachable, kind, generous, and quick to be honest. Self-protective without the chains and spikes of irrational, unhealed wounds and fears, because I value myself, and my life and perceptions, therefore I can value others. I can allow others to BE just as they are, with no need to change, or control them to meet my own emotional needs.

I set out on a journey to find the sacred, to find meaning and value in life and celebrations and ritual. Life and the culture I most identified with seemed utterly devoid of this deeper sense of value. The journey has changed the quality of my own life immensely, but it has rippled out beyond my tiny sphere of influence and added an increased quality to many of the lives I touch, creating a wonderful bubble of loving gratitude in nearly every corner of my life and experience. A journey for my own healing, and sanity that has had visible effect and influence on those around me. What a magnificent blessing!

Discovering and Inventing a New Sense Of Self

How does one go about this? What are the rituals that occur? There are a million ways to transform, but nature gives us a good working model. The caterpillar forms a safe chrysalis sequesters itself within it, seemingly absent from the world, but when its process is complete the new, and wondrous butterfly emerges. We must pour new wine into new skins. So many people start with the outside transformation.

A MTF (male to female) Trans-gendered, or trans-sexual person might start by wearing women’s clothing, releasing old friends and things from the past that defines him as a man, and embrace new friends, activities, clothing, colors, and personal items that help zem identify more outwardly as feminine. A woman going through an unexpected break up or divorce might do the same thing. Spend time and money on new clothes, a new look, and new household items that don’t hold memories of old goals or old couple identity for her.

From the outside both of these people are in a major life and identity transition and even crises. That much is obvious, but underneath the obvious it might be hard to understand the choices they make or the way they spend limited financial resources or burn bridges with old trusted friends. To someone not engaged in such a difficult process or a place of emotional turmoil, these individuals may seem irresponsible, careless, or crude. But the seeker cannot be held back by these outside opinions. The road to healing and wholeness is a personal journey as well as an archetypal one.

Theater Productions

One place loaded with ritual, symbolism and ceremony is the Theater. Certain truths hold regardless of the show or production being performed. The curtain, the props, the lights the set, the cast, opening night jitters, “break a leg” and “the show must go on”. So much of the process of a show is in its rituals, whether one is in the audience, or involved with the production itself. Someone is in charge of every aspect of the show, but the communication required between so many people makes tempers short and niceties seem scarce to an outsider. Everyone must be on the same page to make the magic happen and the show a success: the props manager, the stage manager, the house manager, the director, the producer, the cast and the crew and the chorus.

The theater is a place of great superstition, whether real or contrived, it is a tradition and ritual. One that most self proclaimed “Drama Geeks” participate in, and perpetuate with glee. It is a means to prove that they belong in the complex world behind the scenes. It is a shared experience and secret language to create exclusivity, like Latin and botanical names to the scientist. For example: no true theater person, will actually wish another that they respect “good luck” It would jinx their performance, instead they say something that sounds rude, like: “Break a leg, or your neck or fall down horribly in flames…”

Even worse, for British actors in particular is to dare to utter the actual name of the “Scottish Play” by Master Shakespeare! (MacBeth). No one does this unless the play is actually being performed. It is akin to breaking a mirror in other superstitions. Perhaps these superstitions came from the early vaudeville performers, and further back, maybe the Roma, the gypsies that traveled and made their living as performing troupes and later with circus acts…

Every production has one or more of these back stage scenarios: nervous understudies, lost props, incomplete or faulty sets, temperamental (or occasionally incompetent) directors, arrogant actors, or wandering cast members who consistently miss their cues, or take the costumes home. Murphy ’s Law seems to run rampant in the theater, and if nothing actually goes wrong at all… well that’s when the real trouble begins. If nothing goes wrong, well it could mean anything! The show will be a flop, the lead actor will get TB, or the producers will pull out… the worry list is endless. But somehow it all works out. And no matter what drama unfolds behind the curtain, somehow it all comes together when the curtain goes up. No one knows how, or even why, it just works out –usually at the last possible minute.

Now lets flip the coin: As an eager audience member one approaches the ticket sales with hopeful enthusiasm, than shedding coats and finding friends, one takes a seat. The folding seats, crunched up legs and negotiating the passage of fellow patrons squeezing past to claim their own seats is just one small part of the larger normative experience. In fact, as cheesy as this may seem, those narrow folding seats are such an important part of the larger, theatrical magic experience, that the whole concept has been replicated in movie theaters and film houses around the globe. Once the arrival rituals have completed and the house lights go down, one finds oneself waiting in hushed anticipation for the curtain to rise and the show to begin. A particularly enthusiastic crowd may even laugh and applaud the narrator or opening act onto the stage.

Certain behavior protocols are implicit and implied though rarely ever pointed out directly. This is one way that habit and ritual shape our experience and show us their relevance. Again it is the shared experience that instructs one to the proper, expected behavior. Examples might be applauding after each act, or for a particularly well executed gesture or line, Standing up at the end of the performance to show extra enthusiasm. Quietly excusing one ’s self and creeping out to cough, sneeze or let some other noisy bodily function erupt. And the ushers are nearby to encourage waiting for applause or a musical interlude, before creeping back to ones seat in the half dark.

Although there are those who commit the outrageous sin of allowing their cell phones to ring in the theater, the disapproval from the surrounding peers does more to encourage compliance then the largest policeman or laminated sign could ever do. This entire experience is a concentrated example of how we learn our behavior protocols in the world at large. These are unspoken rules and rituals by which we live our lives and engage in the social norms of our particular society or tribe.

Dance Of Anger

Everyone has different ways of responding to and expressing anger. Anger effects us all, from momentary irritations, to the all consuming and unstoppable rage of a grief process. There is no wrong way to process or express this emotion, or any other for that matter, but there are some ways that are healthier than others. In general, in our society women are taught to be patient, understanding and accommodating. To push down our anger and think about how the other person feels. From this we learn that it is not OK to be angry or to act upon our rage in a natural, healthy way of expression.

Obviously there are exceptions to this generality. I have met plenty of men who are seem passive to the extreme, and some women get angry almost daily as a way of manipulating those around them. Meanwhile men are generally taught to cover fear, embarrassment and softer feeling with anger or aggression, stuffing all vulnerability to unseen levels. Neither of these models allows either of the binary sexes to have a natural, healthy relationship with anger, or its natural, appropriate and useful expression. Useful you ask? Yes. Anger can be very useful when used appropriately.

Anger is fuel. Its Healthy. It is a message to let you know that you have gone past many, many cues of “no”, and “Stop”, and “don’t do that”. Anger is the fuel to end a frustrating situation. It is very effective to overcome inertia, when we know how to use it appropriately. The trick is knowing how to give ourselves permission to end the situation before it becomes frustrating. This is a dance we all must do.

Redfine The Goal: Widen The Scope

From ceremony and ritual in a culture that at first glance may seem devoid of them, to rites of passage specifically, I explored the back ground and inspiration for the spontaneous expression of joy known as Happy Dance. I abridged and defined what does, and does not qualify as a true happy dance. I made detailed descriptions of the genuine happy dances I was able to observe. But I have been stumped on how to capture authentic happy dances on film. How can I anticipate them without manipulating outcomes or contriving and recreating scenarios?

Recently I received interacted with some class mates from last spring quarter. One of them suggested that perhaps by narrowing my scope to much, I am in fact trying to play God, and that I need to stay open to where the material and process of discovery wants to take me. So rather than focus solely on happy dances I need to continue to include and consider other forms of ceremony and ritual in my ponderings and directly observable, experiential learning.

About two days later I got an email from another classmate who viewed my blog. The feedback she provided was very encouraging and supportive. She also suggested destinations I could visit to have a better chance of capturing spontaneous Happy Dances on Film. Places like Disney Land, and theme parks, dog parks and cultural events, and even tourist locations. This is very helpful, even though a part of me remains dubious. Especially because the ice cream parlor was a huge and mysterious let down.

Our popular culture knows and makes references to Happy Dance all the time. While the supposed happy dance in this clip is very obviously contrived as part of the show the actors are performing, it is a reference in popular culture television to the phenomenon.

What Do Happy Dances Have in Common?

There is a spring of bounce in the body or step of each of them at the peak of expression, or the height of each person’s bliss threshold. There is no known way to measure this without lab equipment, and somewhat contrived and artificial stimuli; so direct and repeated observation seems necessary to establish the various levels and degrees of happiness expressed by each individual. For comparative analysis, repeated observation may be the most effective and reliable measurement technique I have. Ideally I would like to capture these happy dances and spontaneous expressions on film for repeated viewing and logging a systematic way to assess Happy dance beyond crude momentary perceptions. But without unbridled spontaneity Happy dance is no longer authentic expression.


Here is some footage from "The Nerd Fighter Happy Dance Project". Looks like they did my work for me. But do any of these really meet the criteria of authenticity? I doubt it.





still interesting to watch and analyze though.

Devon's Evolving Joyousness

When she was young Devon would hop from one foot to the other, elbows bent, fluttering her wrists at face level and making little fishy faces, while repeating in a high pitched voice whatever it was that had sparked her joy. Something like: “I got a gerbil! I got a gerbil!” or “Purple! They’re purple! I have purple shoes!”

As she got older Devon toned down her happy dance, the fishy faces are pretty rare, but the high girly, wistful voice is still present: “I got a new friend!” Now, a subtle happy dance would be a wide closed mouth grin, with her head tilted to one side, and wide, slowly fluttering eye lids. A more excited Happy Dance might include jumping up and down, or shaking the head up and down.

When truly blissed out she might lay herself out across the nearest furniture or floor and look back at you upside down, with long, slow cat-like blinks, pretending to be a dragon, she makes one feel like a food source as she silently licks her lips in one long, slow motion, still blinking and smiling.

Kero's brow lifting smirk

Kero lifts her brows and her voice rises a bit, her eyes go wide and she chuckles and makes witty retorts, with a smile widening her lips like the strange and seldom seen expression it is. She does not flail or jump about, but seems to have been everywhere at once and back where she started before you can blink. Arms full, offering you whatever part of the conversation caught her fancy or filled her with spontaneous joy: the cat, the airsoft rifle, the newest video game or belt band, or catalog. Yet when looking right at her she seems almost perfectly still, and quite poised. Except those raised brows, open face, wide eyes and curled back lips chortling with a polite and abbreviated head bow.

Kevin's Happy Pacing and Lusty Saunter

When theorizing on a new concept, or piecing together abstract bits of information in a new way, Kevin begins to hurriedly pace back and forth, and preaches excitedly, almost non-stop. The energy of the whole room shifts around him as he goes into lecture mode. One wonders how he breathes, as he systematically rattles off scenarios and requirements; the light in his eyes reaches a frantic flickering almost as quick as his arm swings. He becomes quite pleased with this expression and it can become self perpetuating if the conversation is right, and he doesn’t become self conscious.

When his attention is even more aroused, by a person, conversation, or idea (a pretty girl talking about the difference between third and fourth dimensional physics for example) Kevin’s eyes light up in a way that makes him even more handsome than usual. He glides across the floor like an apparition, smoothly with a confidence, speed, and agility he does not seem to display so openly at other times. A Saunter is a slower, more sensuous version of a strut. It is mesmerizing and hypnotic, and oh so quick. His usually bright and dazzling smile takes on a depth and authenticity it often lacks to the discerning eye. One feels frozen and baffled, like a rabbit in the head lights. This joy filled, lusty saunter and scoop is a distinctive and completely unforgettable moving picture; A Happy dance of its own caliber, that is tangible and has the effect of transporting others to a similar state of blissful focus.

Donny's Tasty Food Shimmy

When Donny takes a bite of good food, his eyes roll back, his breathing flutters and, if it’s really good, his knees will buckle and he will have to steady himself on the walls or furniture. Once he catches his breath the groaning ensues. This doesn’t happen with every bite, usually just the first few. It’s kind of amazing. His appreciation is so tangible that his girlfriend and I love to make extra food just so we can feed him when he shows up. The night that Donny was introduced to flan, his quiet little whimpers were almost indecent. I could speculate all day at the pleasure and happiness, and the various levels of nourishment he experiences with being fed so deliberately, or why he wasn't well fed before, but the why is not what I am here to examine, merely the dance of spontaneous Joy itself; whatever its cause or underlying influences to its expression.

Leslie's two stage Happy Dance

Sitting in a coffee shop when she heard the news, Leslie did a two part happy dance. The initial dance was a miniature seated version of the twist. She raised her voice a bit, shook her fists and waved them back and forth above the table while twisting in her chair, and chanting “I got the job, I got the job, I got the job”. Leslie"s happy dance included a few derogatory jabs, and third hand threats of legal action towards her nemesis, and those she felt snubbed by for other jobs. So letting out her anger and resentment clouded the purity of some of the joy, but revenge at least in words seems to be a frequent part of her initial expressions. But once that is expressed as a possible plan, an important change occurs.

About five minutes later the second wave hit. This was a deeper more internalized expression of Joy. The resentment was removed and the happiness a bit more authentic and accessible. Her eyes lit up, and the smile seemed to consume her whole body. Her fists moved up and down in unison as she shook with low pitched, and quiet, but deep laughter. Her head and torso shook back and forth in small but very energetic movements. This seemed to be a smaller, seated version of her full body happy dance. I’ve seen her wag her whole body like a tail-less dog. The shimmy travels up the body to the head, and back down again to the hips, and out the legs.

Tamia's How to GET Happy Dance

She grinned a “Cheshire cat” grin, with big teeth, and wiggled her assets all over. A few shoulder shimmy’s, and high fives, then booty bumped her roommate a few times and bumped fists with the roommates boy friend. She boogied down, played some funk from George Clinton, and boogied right back up again. “If you gotta do the twist, rub some funk on it”. This was a very creative way to put the groceries away. After that it was time to strut. Around the house, off to the store in her favorite coat, and out to the bank. Strutting is a slower more drawn out version of the Happy Dance. Like an after shock. It can happen hours or even days later as a residual ripple of the Happy dance phenomenon. Strutting and wearing your favorite clothes is a longer more deliberate Happy Dance, but still an expression of joy and a just a little bit of impromptu, self righteous bragging to boost the attitude; “Oh yeah. I got it. I’m all that baby. All that and more. Don’t you wish you were me? Oh ya. Lets Rock-n-roll!"

JEN's Happy Dance

”It was crazy! Sporadic! And beautiful. My amazing roommate got a call while we were shopping for clothes. When she learned she got a job that she really wanted she hung up the phone and literally skipped, and danced and jumped in the air! She may have even clicked her heels! She was shrieking and dancing and kicking her legs, waving her arms, oblivious to the huge spectacle she was making of herself. Utterly un-intimidated by the store staff and their disapproving stares, she laughed and hooted and flailed about. I laughed with her, and at the reactions of the people who pretended not to notice. Why has happiness become a taboo in our culture? We can share violence, anger and even sex in the streets but pure, unbridled joy really shakes people up. “

“Is it because there is no script? It’s so unpredictable, and uncontainable. Where could this lead? We might have creativity and innovation. We could see solutions to problems and ultimately people could start thinking for themselves, or stop watching TV, or heavens! We might stop consuming new products… If we are happy and satisfied, content just as we are, we don’t have to engage in “seeking” behaviors, the search for happiness, and it’s a lot harder to sell us things we don’t need to feed consumerism”.

Pissy Dances?

If for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, then it stands to reason that there is an equal and opposite to the “Happy Dance”. This must surely be the Pissy Dance, or the micro tantrum. That whining and stomping and throwing of limbs that happens when we don’t get our way, or things don’t go according to our meager hopes or plans. Now obviously this is not going to happen in a board room environment, but I have witnessed it in many social settings, on many levels, from the exasperated sigh, to the full on escalation of expressed displeasure. What is this? How does this fit into our sense of ceremony, celebration and ritual or the lack there of?

On a recent visit to a popular ice cream parlor to people watch and indulge a binge in the ultimate dairy drug experience, we observed that almost no one seemed happy or even cheerful. Lined up at the counter like junkies awaiting their fix, the patrons took their ice cream and sat in stoic silence, or stomped off into the rainy night. The only evident exception was the children but their post sugar excitement seemed frantic and manic, NOT happy, or cheerful, or joyous. What’s the deal? Where is the joy? Where is the savoring of the delicious treat? It just reinforces my opinion that dairy IS a drug, and not a very healthy or happy one at that. We have a micro tantrum when they don’t have the flavor of ice cream we want, or if the line is too long, but we are not made happy by the indulgence. I will have to look elsewhere to capture spontaneous joyousness in action.

Original Declaration of Project Direction

Why Evergreen?

I came to Evergreen from the old adage "pain pushes till the vision pulls". Evergreen was the one thing, the one place that held a vision before me when the pain of broken things had pushed me to far. Broken faith, broken dreams, broken life, broken hope, loss of direction, and a huge, overwhelming emptyness, that was poignantly etched against the backdrop of other people's acceptable reality, and status quo. Evergreen offered fresh hope, seedling ideas, and lush opportunities to explore new territories in the eternal growth of nature itself against the dark, back alley, survival trials that my life had disintegrated to.


Why Ceremony?

After an art class with Hirsh Diamant that very literally seemed to bring me back to life, my academic adviser asked me what I would spend my time studying if I could research and study anything at all. When I answered her she pushed me hard at the ceremonies class. Speaking with previous students at the academic fair solidified the choice for me. So here I am.



The 4 Questions:


What will I learn?

I want to learn about the significance and need for ceremony and celebration in our lives, across cultures and around such ideas as purposeful and accidental rituals, rites of passage, and the eruption of spontaneous celebration from people in cultures devoid of real ceremonies and rituals, -or at least ceremonies that seem devoid of life and authenticity. How does that effect us? How do we respond?


How will I learn it?

As my project get its feet under it and the esoteric components come together from the ideas and conversations, and seminars I've been having: I plan to utilize social media, and instructional technologies to get a large volume of people to contribute raw material to the project. The road to discovery and uncovering knowledge is a quest. I will learn HOW to learn it as I go, as the project unfolds and takes me on the journey. I will also utilize many of the tools through the ceremonies websites, some of which I am familiar with already such as multiple intelligences, etc.


What I plan to DO with it?

I will observe, archive, categorize and analyze the information. I plan to compare it to other types of information and utilize and explore it comparatively to ideas such as put forth by Joseph Campbell, Robert Bly, and others, in a way that extends and further explores their theories. I also plan to compare these ideas with my own memories and experiences while growing up participating in annual ceremonies with members of the Chiloquin tribe.


What difference will it make?

The different stages of my research will make differences in a variety of ways, at each stage from grounding and focusing my studies for further exploration, to involving people across social networks, and hopefully socioeconomic groups into a larger idea and project. Ultimately the effects of my project series could reintegrate our social structure with more recognized rites of passage, resulting in more individual identity, enabling a more complete (wholistic) contribution by that individual to a healthier society at large.


But these ideas and answers are evolving, so we shall see what comes, and what will be.

Transition, Compensation, and Questing

Jan. 27, 2011

Transition makes it difficult to see the goal, or outcome. Sometimes all we can see is the next step in the dark. Sitting in a coffee shop, I was freaking out because recently I lost my car. Well I voluntarily surrendered it. I did a practice run on the bus system to be ready for my new the job next week. This has been hard. I am learning a new skill set and life without a car requires a different set of accessories then before. I find I need a warmer coat for example. I was about an hour later then I will need to be on work days, and it was COLD. No seat warmers. No radio. But also no parking or gas expenses. I have a lot to be thankful for right now, but this is hard. Dragging the dog outside for a walk 4 hours earlier then he is used to wasn’t much fun either. He likes to lounge in bed in the morning and soak up the sun if it appears. Don’t we all. If I had the energy I would be in mid-pissy dance.

So now I am planning to focus on research and compile the pieces of happy dance I have found on the internet. But this project is difficult. My resources are not typical or all what I had hoped and the things I am learning as I pursue seem less involved with my subject then with learning to live a new life as a student. I am supposed to write about it all, but I am over whelmed. Straddling a new life, while still combing through the broken pieces of an old one is tough. As if on cue, my Ex called as I wrote that last line, and tried to get me to commit to throwing my money into one of his old, junker cars. He tried to work the angle that it was for my benefit. It has been parked for 4 years and not running. If it were truly so easy, it would have run before now I suspect. I am so weary of people and their angles. I am not a resource or a commodity.

Being behind on finances, giving up my beautiful dream car, dealing with an unstable and temperamental ex who is trans-gender and filled with drama and chaos, and struggling with my homework blocks has left me drained and feeling fairly isolated. But I value the hard earned solitude that fighting through difficulties alone lends to one. I am finding myself at the magical place of “nowhere to go”. No demands, no expectations, no unrealistic agendas. I am very nearly free, outside of anyone else’s preferences or needs. Now I have just the wonder of the person I am becoming and the life I am building and creating for myself, whole, healthy, and beautiful again. Worthwhile. Who am I? What do I want in and from life? I get to quest and find out! It is an adventure all my own!

I am truly on my own again, and as the wall of fear comes down, I am rediscovering that I like it that way. I might even prefer it, as I once did, long ago. I don’t want anyone in my life demanding my time, or energy, or bullying me into doing things or sharing things that I would rather not. It is making it easier to transition. I have reached a point where “I wake up every morning and thank God I don’t have some middle-aged, menopausal man to bother me. I am free, and I’m single and it great”.

I can simply avoid anyone who might try to guilt me into overextending myself, or bending over backwards to suit their desires or convenience without regard for my own. This is a huge blessing. I can make mistakes, and do things that are stupid, and foolish, and I am the only one who has to pay for it. I can say NO, and set limits, and standards, and NOT have to compromise them for someone else. This is Novel.

So now I make daily lists, what do I want? What do I like? What are my interests? How can I better pursue my project? What does anything in my own life have to do with my project? And how can I convey that? How can I add value to the life I already have? How can I set a course for my future that is truly about me and not a child or boy friend, or spouse, or aging parent? No one can stop me from becoming who I am and living my own life. What is the next step? And How can I do justice to this project that truly fascinates me even when I have lost the vision and the direction for it?

Happy Dance. Spontaneous celebration. Ceremony, Ritual, modern life and culture. Real people living in the real world, and not some poorly contrived “Reality TV show”, made to appeal to the lowest common denominator of society, morals, and tastes. My project is scientific, academic, artistic and relevant to humanity rediscovering value in itself, as I rediscover the value in myself. Speculation is part of questing. Getting lost in the forest of ideas, and idealism, becoming confused by messages and information is an archetypal element of such a journey, be it physically, emotionally or psychically. A quest is a symbolic journey with many paths, choices and archetypes to meet along the way that shape and mold the character of the hero, and bring him changed to the final destination which is always the beginning. We are each the hero of our own and collective Journey.

Tantrums and drugs

Pissy Dance?

If for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, then it stands to reason that there is an equal and opposite to the “Happy Dance”. This must surely be the Pissy Dance, or the micro tantrum. That whining and stomping and throwing of limbs that happens when we don’t get our way, or things don’t go according to our meager hopes or plans. Now obviously this is not going to happen in a board room environment, but I have witnessed it in many social settings, on many levels, from the exasperated sigh, to the full on escalation of expressed displeasure. What is this? How does this fit into our sense of ceremony, celebration and ritual or the lack there of?

On a recent visit to a popular ice cream parlor to people watch and indulge a binge in the ultimate dairy drug experience, we observed that almost no one seemed happy or even cheerful. Lined up at the counter like junkies awaiting their fix, the patrons took their ice cream and sat in stoic silence, or stomped off into the rainy night. The only evident exception was the children but their post sugar excitement seemed frantic and manic, NOT happy, or cheerful, or joyous. What’s the deal? Where is the joy? Where is the savoring of the delicious treat? It just reinforces my opinion that dairy IS a drug, and not a very healthy or happy one at that. We have a micro tantrum when they don’t have the flavor of ice cream we want, or if the line is too long, but we are not made happy by the indulgence. I will have to look elsewhere to capture spontaneous joyousness in action.

What is a Happy Dance?

I love happy dances. Spontaneous bursts of joyous celebration. I have observed my own and other peoples happy dances for years and noticed several things that seem to hold true about happy dances.

1, Many people are completely unaware of their own happy dances. Or fail to recognize them for what they are. (I admit it is possible they do notice and just don’t find it the slightest bit interesting, but my experience is that most people don’t BOTHER to notice). Happy dances differ from person to person.

2, Happy dances can be big or small, solitary or group oriented. They can and do happen anywhere and everywhere.

3, Most happy dances last only a few brief seconds, but some can be expanded into several minutes of celebratory joyousness. Whether it’s a leap in the air and a click of the heels, or boogeying down to the funk fantastic. Be it a quick shrug with a fleeting smile and a wink, or a cartwheel on the walk home, Happy dances erupt from all of humanity except the deeply depressed. Even just a prolonged eye contact and wriggly eyebrows can be a minute happy dance of sorts, in the midst of a crowded restaurant, or from a hospital bed.

4, You cannot fake a happy dance, not even your own. Even if one becomes aware of what their particular happy dance is, and recreates the timing and movements of the joyous little jig, it loses the essence, the spontaneity that elevates a true happy dance to the tangible expression of contagious bliss.

5, Most people have more than one happy dance for different kinds of occasions and environments. For example the happy dance one does on the field after a particularly well executed sports play, may be very different from the happy dance the same person does in the board room when their idea is chosen for special recognition. This will be different again, from the happy dance at the conclusion of a very successful first date, or finding out that your crush likes you back.

6, Happy Dances often change over time. Although the elements may remain the same, your Happy Dance may change to incorporate new moves as you become more or less self conscious, gain better balance, or stiffen with age or injury.

7, Dancing in general makes many people feel happy due to the endorphin release and feeling of letting go. Some people dance to become happy, or become happy from dancing. In some cultures dance is considered a form of prayer. This is GREAT, but not what I mean when I talk about happy dances.

Now we come to the dilemma. If true happy dances are spontaneous and cannot be contrived, then how do we capture, observe and study them? It would seem I have to be around a lot of people that are having festive things unfold in their lives large and small. I can’t just go around constantly filming people and HOPE I capture something usable and authentic. I would miss so much while locked away in the editing room, and defeat the point of being there. I have a few other ideas, but let’s explore some things first.

While visiting my sister the other day she handed me this little book; “Where The Hell Is Matt”? It is all about this guy, Matt who is happily dancing around the world, and getting paid by his sponsor to do it. What!? No joke. He is traveling the world doing this little, silly, simple dance, obviously having a great time, and getting paid to do it. In some of the later stages of the video he gets people in many diverse cultures to do the little dance with him. Perhaps it is not spontaneous, but it is joyous, and very happy.





In one of my favorite Indian Bolliwood productions, “Lagaan”, the villagers dance for spontaneous joy numerous times during the movie. Many of these are choreographed dances, but it creates a lot of joy to watch. When watching dance, or sports or gymnastics and being totally absorbed, the mind sort of shuts down and we are suspended for a moment in silence, connected for that instant to the infinite. The ego mind shuts off and joy can come flooding in, as we are totally present in the moment of NOW.

I like to dance in my kitchen and the kitchens of close friends. It may be spontaneous, but there is usually music, and I am just grooving. Although this is a joy filled activity, and allows me to express my mood in the moment, it is not quite the same as my Happy Dance. We go dancing to have fun. We dance around in expressions of joy and happiness, or sharing a private moment with a lover, and we happy dance because it cannot be contained and we have no conscious intent to do it at all. It just happens, and by the time we notice, it’s done.

Another video I found that inspires me is the train station dance. Obviously planned and implemented by key performers this seemingly spontaneous action invited participation from passersby. In my mind it’s as if it bridged the gap between dancing for joy, and dancing from joy. This may be a small piece of insight into the Happy Dance phenomenon.