We talked up all night and came to no conclusion
We started a fight that ended in silent confusion
And as we sat stuck you could hear the trash truck
Making its way through the neighborhood
Picking up the thrown outs
Different from house to house
We get to decide what we think is no good
We're sculpted from youth
The chipping away makes me weary
And as for the truth it seems like we just pick a theory
The one that justifies our daily lives
And backs us with quiver and arrows
To protect openings
Cause when the warring begins
How quickly the wide open narrows
Into the smallness of our deconstruction of love
We thought it was changing, but it never was
It's just the same as it ever was
A family of foxes came to my yard and dug in
I looked in a book to see what this could possibly mean
Cause there is fate in the breeze and signs in the trees
Possible tragic events
When forces collide with the damage strewn wide
And holes blasted straight through the fence
The sky starts to crash the rain on the roof starts to drumming
And laid out like cash your take on my list of shortcomings
The show starts to close, I know how this goes
The plot a predictable showing
And though it seems grand it's just one speck of sand
And back to the hourglass we're going
Back to the smallness of our deconstruction of love
We thought it was changing, but it never was
Our deconstruction of love
Monday, August 26, 2013
Lonely, Alone with Me.
The other day I was fixing something on our bike. I say our bike, because Ziggy and I ride this sort of tandem bike; where a little tyke bike is attached to my big person bike. As I was turning this screw, I negligently pinched my pinky finger and it hurt real bad. I screamed (amazingly enough I refrained from explicative’s) and I ran into the house moaning. Ziggy followed me, all concerned and as I was applying ice and cool water I began to cry. Sob really. And without really thinking I cried out, “this is why I want a partner!! I am so tired of doing this all by myself! I want help!!!” The tears streamed down my face and this sort of deep sorrow welled up from inside. And I looked at Ziggy, startled and I realized that no one was coming to save me. No one was going to help me. It was just me. And him. It was us. And that is the way that it is. How long it will be like this, I don’t know. But it is this way now and there isn’t anything I can do to magically to change it. I must accept this reality. And it was then that I realized just how desperately I’ve been seeking a partner. I haven’t been seeing my real reality at all.
I mean for a long while there I thought that if I did my hair a certain way, or if I dressed a certain way or if I lost weight or if I did just this or just that, that I’d meet him. The “guy”. And I know that there isn’t really any “guy” at all. I mean, sure, of course, I’ve got to remain positive and believe that he exists some place out there in some other plane, some extended version of my truth. But he isn’t HERE. NOW. I am alone. Siddhartha (one of my favorite books, thank you Johnny) explained that when someone seeks, it often happens that his eye only sees the thing that he seeks. He sees nothing and takes in nothing because he sees only what he seeks. Seeking means having a goal. But finding means being free. Huh... find???
I walked to the beach last night. I’ve been sort of sad lately as this realization has been sinking in. As I walked, I cried and I thought about my life. Am I having a mid-life crisis, really? I mean, am I really doing that thing that 40-somethings supposedly do when they realize that close to half of their life is nearly over? Am I assessing my life for value and substance? Scrutinizing my friends and acquaintances with a bit of spicy envy? Comparing myself to others? Judging my experience based upon the latest Comso or People Magazine spotlight on every day lives of the rich and famous? Am I really doing this? Really?
Yes I am.
You see, I am not like most people. And sure, I know you are saying, well, we all are unique in our own way. But seriously, when I look around at others in my immediate circle I see people with family living relatively nearby. I see extended families who go out of their way to help each other. I see best friends from high school arranging play dates for their children. I see college sweethearts, heck, high school sweethearts pawing each other in the grocery store. I see good friends who’ve known each other for a long time. I don’t have any of that around me. I am completely alone. And to no fault of anyone but myself. I created this reality. Through a series of calculated and innocent acts of defiance I have virtually made myself completely isolated. The only exception is Ziggy and well, he's not even with me full time.
I have memories of me, being awakened in the middle of the night, sobbing in the corner of my dormitory hallway by some floor mate frustrated with the incessant noise. What was I doing? Crying because I was lonely. What about the time I skinny dipped by moonlight at Moon Dunes Beach in Lake Tahoe, alone? Or the time I camped out in a thunderous hail storm in the Sierras, again alone. No, that time I was with a friends dog, Allagash. Maybe it was my 30th birthday when I camped out in the woods near Lake Tahoe and burnt all my old journals. Or the time I went to Eastern Europe, alone. Or the summer I spent on a survey crew in West Virginia where we lived in an old farmhouse with no running water or electricity and during the day I’d be totally alone for hours under the ancient wild cherry trees of Otter Creek Wilderness, high as a kite wondering what in God's name was the name of our crew leader. Or in Argentina, a city of 13 million, again, alone. Maybe it was the time I took a road trip across 10 western states, alone. Or when I’d go to music festivals, with a bunch of people, but they’d find me, hours later, tripping out, dancing, alone.
Are we seeing a pattern here? I have learned that patterns are inherent realities of nature. They cannot be altered from their organic state, but they can be modified or disturbed in tendency and form. Their substance remains intact. Am I product of my patterns of behavior or am I a pattern in and of itself? Was I sent here to learn the life of living in such a disturbing pattern or was I here to disturb this pattern that was set in motion?
And you know the worst part? People have tried to befriend me, members of the church invite me to all kinds of events and parties and even just to hang out and what do I do? I defer, I delay, or I discount the invitation as bullshit. Why? I will let you answer that because I think I am too ashamed to write down what I really feel.
The truth is I am 40 now and I am realizing that I have made choices and gone down certain roads in my life that have led me to these consequences. I see that I have traveled far from my path of origin and those experiences, certainly have made me who I am today, but have left me far from my home. I am uncertain how I will ever find my way back again.
Again, Siddhartha said, “we are not going in circles, we are going upwards. The path is a spiral and we have climbed many steps.”
So, for those of you who read my blog and then actually see me in person, please don’t mention this blog. Don’t apologetically invite me over for tea. Don’t try and take me in like a lost stray cat. I hate cats. This is a cathartic experience. Putting it all on paper and then releasing it off into the Universe. For me, writing is sacred. Just let me be. Let me sit with this for a spell. Let’s see what I find.
I mean for a long while there I thought that if I did my hair a certain way, or if I dressed a certain way or if I lost weight or if I did just this or just that, that I’d meet him. The “guy”. And I know that there isn’t really any “guy” at all. I mean, sure, of course, I’ve got to remain positive and believe that he exists some place out there in some other plane, some extended version of my truth. But he isn’t HERE. NOW. I am alone. Siddhartha (one of my favorite books, thank you Johnny) explained that when someone seeks, it often happens that his eye only sees the thing that he seeks. He sees nothing and takes in nothing because he sees only what he seeks. Seeking means having a goal. But finding means being free. Huh... find???
I walked to the beach last night. I’ve been sort of sad lately as this realization has been sinking in. As I walked, I cried and I thought about my life. Am I having a mid-life crisis, really? I mean, am I really doing that thing that 40-somethings supposedly do when they realize that close to half of their life is nearly over? Am I assessing my life for value and substance? Scrutinizing my friends and acquaintances with a bit of spicy envy? Comparing myself to others? Judging my experience based upon the latest Comso or People Magazine spotlight on every day lives of the rich and famous? Am I really doing this? Really?
Yes I am.
You see, I am not like most people. And sure, I know you are saying, well, we all are unique in our own way. But seriously, when I look around at others in my immediate circle I see people with family living relatively nearby. I see extended families who go out of their way to help each other. I see best friends from high school arranging play dates for their children. I see college sweethearts, heck, high school sweethearts pawing each other in the grocery store. I see good friends who’ve known each other for a long time. I don’t have any of that around me. I am completely alone. And to no fault of anyone but myself. I created this reality. Through a series of calculated and innocent acts of defiance I have virtually made myself completely isolated. The only exception is Ziggy and well, he's not even with me full time.
I have memories of me, being awakened in the middle of the night, sobbing in the corner of my dormitory hallway by some floor mate frustrated with the incessant noise. What was I doing? Crying because I was lonely. What about the time I skinny dipped by moonlight at Moon Dunes Beach in Lake Tahoe, alone? Or the time I camped out in a thunderous hail storm in the Sierras, again alone. No, that time I was with a friends dog, Allagash. Maybe it was my 30th birthday when I camped out in the woods near Lake Tahoe and burnt all my old journals. Or the time I went to Eastern Europe, alone. Or the summer I spent on a survey crew in West Virginia where we lived in an old farmhouse with no running water or electricity and during the day I’d be totally alone for hours under the ancient wild cherry trees of Otter Creek Wilderness, high as a kite wondering what in God's name was the name of our crew leader. Or in Argentina, a city of 13 million, again, alone. Maybe it was the time I took a road trip across 10 western states, alone. Or when I’d go to music festivals, with a bunch of people, but they’d find me, hours later, tripping out, dancing, alone.
Are we seeing a pattern here? I have learned that patterns are inherent realities of nature. They cannot be altered from their organic state, but they can be modified or disturbed in tendency and form. Their substance remains intact. Am I product of my patterns of behavior or am I a pattern in and of itself? Was I sent here to learn the life of living in such a disturbing pattern or was I here to disturb this pattern that was set in motion?
And you know the worst part? People have tried to befriend me, members of the church invite me to all kinds of events and parties and even just to hang out and what do I do? I defer, I delay, or I discount the invitation as bullshit. Why? I will let you answer that because I think I am too ashamed to write down what I really feel.
The truth is I am 40 now and I am realizing that I have made choices and gone down certain roads in my life that have led me to these consequences. I see that I have traveled far from my path of origin and those experiences, certainly have made me who I am today, but have left me far from my home. I am uncertain how I will ever find my way back again.
Again, Siddhartha said, “we are not going in circles, we are going upwards. The path is a spiral and we have climbed many steps.”
So, for those of you who read my blog and then actually see me in person, please don’t mention this blog. Don’t apologetically invite me over for tea. Don’t try and take me in like a lost stray cat. I hate cats. This is a cathartic experience. Putting it all on paper and then releasing it off into the Universe. For me, writing is sacred. Just let me be. Let me sit with this for a spell. Let’s see what I find.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Mudifestation
Wow. I am 40. I think I am having the ubiquitous mid-life crisis. As I grow, learn and live I find that the experiences I am faced with are both typical in a global sense and yet independently unique to me. Everyone has experienced loss, disappointment, betrayal, etc. Everyone has had moments of pure ecstasy, unfettered joy, unbridled passion, etc. This is life.
We have the opportunity to choose how we respond to life’s circumstances. We do, but we often fall into the egoist trap of ‘victim mentality’ blaming others and not truly being authentic with our emotional reactions. We lack faith. Faith in the bigger picture.
At this point in my life, you’d think I’d have it all figured out, right? At least, that is what my mind tells me should be happening. It’s a constant barrage of criticisms and judgments for not “having met the right one” or “not having achieved a pinnacle in my career” or “feeling like a failure as a mother”. I spend a lot of time trying to see the truth. And sometimes that intense observation only muddies the view.
In Science of Mind (SOM) they speak a lot about manifestation. If you read definitions, you’d know that to manifest is to “demonstrate” something. It may be an indication or expression of the existence of something happening. If you saw the movie, the Secret, you may believe that simply by believing you can, you will.
These definitions are interesting. Because as a practitioner of SOM, I’d debate the idea of the mind seeing versus the heart feeling. I met someone recently who adamantly expressed his mind-focused view of the world, almost in opposition to my heart-centered view of the same world. Which is correct? I actually enjoy debating the difference between the two and I’d argue the definition is somewhere within the shades of color representing a glimpse of actual truth.
What we don’t know is so much greater than that which we do know. Therefore, how can we possibly limit ourselves with vision boards, prayers for something and petitions for change? Be the change you want to see in the world is not a petition for change, it is quite simply, a declaration of action.
One of my favorite songs of all time, is Round Here by Counting Crows. It starts out like this, “stepped out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white. And in-between the moon and you the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right.”
Why can the angels see the difference and I am so confused? I feel like I’ve stepped out onto the front porch of my life and I am walking like a ghost into the fog. Not knowing where I am going or where I will end up. If I fear and fret about the outcome I only confuse my reality. The total truth is that I’ve just stepped out into the night. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less.
I believe I’ve discovered a new phenomenon. It’s a process of “mudifestation”. I think, that as humans, or as somewhat astute humans who feel as if we’ve got some kind of control over our existence and we try to SEE more than what really IS. And instead of “manifesting” truths we “mudifest” the reality of our existence.
I know I am a lot like Maria in that song. I thought I was close to understanding God. I know I am more than just a little misunderstood and have trouble acting normal when I am nervous. I am, in short, me. A unique totally independent manifestation of the greater whole of existence. There is a fine line between my truth and the whole truth. The dirty water isn’t necessarily an indication of wrong direction. It’s just a place where we are.
Dennis Merritt Jones came to speak at the Center maybe a year ago and he spoke of this parable of a tiny civilization who lived in a stream of flowing water. They clung to the rocks, and sticks and leaves, whatever they could and held on with all their might. Strife was their existence. But what else was there? They couldn’t let go!? But one finally, out of sheer exhaustion did finally let go. At first it was terrified and regretful that it had “died” but the others, as it passed by saw it as a messiah and believe that it had become enlightened. So, who knows what we are doing here… each of us on our own journey. Sometimes lost. Sometimes trapped. Sometimes floating by in the messiness of the muddy waters of life.
Lost in the mystery of mudifestation I sleep tonight and pray, on this beautiful full moon that when I wake and step out into the new day I will be grateful for where I am, who I am and what shows up in my life.
We have the opportunity to choose how we respond to life’s circumstances. We do, but we often fall into the egoist trap of ‘victim mentality’ blaming others and not truly being authentic with our emotional reactions. We lack faith. Faith in the bigger picture.
At this point in my life, you’d think I’d have it all figured out, right? At least, that is what my mind tells me should be happening. It’s a constant barrage of criticisms and judgments for not “having met the right one” or “not having achieved a pinnacle in my career” or “feeling like a failure as a mother”. I spend a lot of time trying to see the truth. And sometimes that intense observation only muddies the view.
In Science of Mind (SOM) they speak a lot about manifestation. If you read definitions, you’d know that to manifest is to “demonstrate” something. It may be an indication or expression of the existence of something happening. If you saw the movie, the Secret, you may believe that simply by believing you can, you will.
These definitions are interesting. Because as a practitioner of SOM, I’d debate the idea of the mind seeing versus the heart feeling. I met someone recently who adamantly expressed his mind-focused view of the world, almost in opposition to my heart-centered view of the same world. Which is correct? I actually enjoy debating the difference between the two and I’d argue the definition is somewhere within the shades of color representing a glimpse of actual truth.
What we don’t know is so much greater than that which we do know. Therefore, how can we possibly limit ourselves with vision boards, prayers for something and petitions for change? Be the change you want to see in the world is not a petition for change, it is quite simply, a declaration of action.
One of my favorite songs of all time, is Round Here by Counting Crows. It starts out like this, “stepped out the front door like a ghost into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white. And in-between the moon and you the angels get a better view of the crumbling difference between wrong and right.”
Why can the angels see the difference and I am so confused? I feel like I’ve stepped out onto the front porch of my life and I am walking like a ghost into the fog. Not knowing where I am going or where I will end up. If I fear and fret about the outcome I only confuse my reality. The total truth is that I’ve just stepped out into the night. That is all. Nothing more, nothing less.
I believe I’ve discovered a new phenomenon. It’s a process of “mudifestation”. I think, that as humans, or as somewhat astute humans who feel as if we’ve got some kind of control over our existence and we try to SEE more than what really IS. And instead of “manifesting” truths we “mudifest” the reality of our existence.
I know I am a lot like Maria in that song. I thought I was close to understanding God. I know I am more than just a little misunderstood and have trouble acting normal when I am nervous. I am, in short, me. A unique totally independent manifestation of the greater whole of existence. There is a fine line between my truth and the whole truth. The dirty water isn’t necessarily an indication of wrong direction. It’s just a place where we are.
Dennis Merritt Jones came to speak at the Center maybe a year ago and he spoke of this parable of a tiny civilization who lived in a stream of flowing water. They clung to the rocks, and sticks and leaves, whatever they could and held on with all their might. Strife was their existence. But what else was there? They couldn’t let go!? But one finally, out of sheer exhaustion did finally let go. At first it was terrified and regretful that it had “died” but the others, as it passed by saw it as a messiah and believe that it had become enlightened. So, who knows what we are doing here… each of us on our own journey. Sometimes lost. Sometimes trapped. Sometimes floating by in the messiness of the muddy waters of life.
Lost in the mystery of mudifestation I sleep tonight and pray, on this beautiful full moon that when I wake and step out into the new day I will be grateful for where I am, who I am and what shows up in my life.
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