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.)
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
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?
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?
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
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.
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.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
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.
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.
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