When completing a profile for Facebook, one section says "Religious views:" I appreciate that they left it open ended -- not a drop-down menu -- so you can fill it in any way that you want. I automatically left it blank and just skipped ahead.
For some reason in the last few days I've been thinking about it. Really the only thing that I can say is that I believe in love. "Religious views: I believe in love." I resisted putting that in because it sounds so hokey and romantic. It sounds girly. It sounds silly, insipid, naive.
Well...OK. Truly I don't know how it sounds. That's just what I think it might sound like. And that projected perception is in conflict with my (self-)image of being sharp, intellectual, a little tough, strong. This is an image which arises naturally out of both my self-reliance and my intellect. I am associated with dry wit, complicated texts, aggressive sports, high risk. Then again, that's a self-image which I think is incomplete, which I think helps to cut me off from others a little, which leads to isolation.
The truth is that I am all that and am still soft and sparkly inside. I hold on dearly to memories of romantic things I've done for others or which have been done for me -- and that I find it confusing that I frequently date people who are not romantic, or are not romantic in the quirky artistic way that I really adore. I dream of things like returning from a hard day climbing a multipitch route to find the path home lined with jars of fireflies and an invitation to release them back into the night together. And I am not ashamed that people might think that I might like that.
And the other truth is that the love I believe in is not romantic love. When it comes to a religious belief, I mean that I believe that if we all focused on love, if we all just thought about how to best express love for each other, then the world would be a happier place. I believe in community, connections, a foundation based on "we" not "I." If we could think about loving without owning, a love that doesn't have the counterbalance of hate or fear or jealousy, a love that was just giving and trusting, then I believe that all good things would follow out of that. It's not easy to do. You have to believe that there's enough love to go around. And I do believe in that.
10.13.2007
10.10.2007
remarkable
Remarkable is a word which I really should use more often. There are times when I say "awesome" or "incredible" when really all I mean is that the item is worthy of noting, that it deserves a remark, not that it really is particularly great or terrible or truly deserving of anything approaching a superlative. It is, quite simply, remarkable.
I was reminded of this word by a friend just a few nights ago and I have not forgotten it. I was struck both by the pure appropriateness of that word choice, as well as by the familiar feeling that I know so many more appropriate and specific words than I utilize. I believe it is time to reinvigorate my verbalized vocabulary.
I was reminded of this word by a friend just a few nights ago and I have not forgotten it. I was struck both by the pure appropriateness of that word choice, as well as by the familiar feeling that I know so many more appropriate and specific words than I utilize. I believe it is time to reinvigorate my verbalized vocabulary.
10.09.2007
The danger of overwhelm
The pressure now is to get moving on several fronts. I know I can, I know I've done it before... but the problem is overcoming friction to get into motion. This is always a dangerous period for me. Once everything's going it's easier. Always.
I find this is also where it's hard for me to be so much on my own. Working independently. Living alone. Single. It's harder to act on the plans.
I like partnerships. Yes, they are hard for me but I still like them.
I find this is also where it's hard for me to be so much on my own. Working independently. Living alone. Single. It's harder to act on the plans.
I like partnerships. Yes, they are hard for me but I still like them.
9.04.2007
everyone has their own experience
For years people who go to Burning Man have been encouraging me to go. Usually they're simply surprised that I have never been. Many have told me about the kinds of personal revelations that they experience there. They describe the community, the art, the way that their entire world view is altered through the experience. They talk about the freedom, the sex, the physicalness of it all. People think I'm already a burner because the way that I see the world and the way I live my life basically fits into their new world view.
I'll let you in on a little arrogance I have: When I would hear from some really (or formerly) straight-laced person about how BM changed their views, I would think that was really great for them, but that I didn't need BM to do that for me. I am able to challenge myself right here in the city. And some of what they're talking about is simply what I have always believed and what has always set me a little apart. I retained a frustration that the kind of community and freedom which was celebrated at Burning Man stayed on the Playa or stayed somehow locked within communities and still hasn't managed to seep into the general world. And so I couldn't really see why I "needed" to go.
And now I'll let you know about a little problem I have: In preparing to go to BM this year (although not only then) I had a hard time knowing that I was going to do something and spend money on something which was entirely just for fun. It felt self-indulgent, selfish. And therefore unnecessary. I have a tendency to feel guilty and wrong whenever I do something which is unproductive, which is just for me. Something which does not benefit others, improve my body/mind or which is simply hedonistic & solo. (The "solo" is a big thing here -- if I am with others then that alone makes anything ok).
And so I left for Burning Man with a resolve to avoid taking on responsibility, to immerse myself in an environment in which everyone is supported in saying exactly what he/she wants to do and then doing it, to give in to my impulses. And I expected no revelations or transformation. It was a challenge. I wanted to see what it was like to spend a few days just listening to me.
The release for me came in the form of a sandstorm. I had been there for less than 24 hours. I went with my group out on our art car, an exposed trailer decorated a la rainforest with a DJ set-up. We were out on the Playa when the wind gathered speed and whipped up the dust bringing a total white-out which lasted for hours. And I did exactly what I wanted to do: I danced. We had a dance party in the middle of a storm and I spun and stomped and reveled in the rawness of it all. I was covered in dust, running in the sun, sweating, and grinning wildly under my dust mask and goggles.
That night I danced exuberantly in the open air and rode my bike all over the playa. I lay down in the dirt, stared at the stars, exulted in the hugeness of it all.
On the second day, when we were hit by another intense white-out, I was left alone in the camp and I went walking. I searched for the right place to be. I passed people holed up in their shelters, taking refuge in Center Camp, covering themselves up. It started to rain. I walked in the middle of the street. I joined a group dancing outside on the Esplanade. When the wind died down a double rainbow stretched across the playa from the Man to the mountains and then became clearer and sharper until we could see the elusive violet and it looked like a triple rainbow. I danced away from the group and towards the rainbows.
And so it continued. I had no revelations of community. I loved the art and wanted everyone there to find a way to bring that creativity into their everyday worlds without fear. I talked with a guy during a dust storm who was wearing a cute black skirt and no top who confessed he had arrived wearing a polo shirt and cargo shorts. I told him he looked really cute and fantastic. I hope that his wardrobe in the outside world will at least contain more colors now. But the overwhelming feeling for me was one of comfort and familiarity. I understand why they say "Welcome Home."
But more than anything I remembered. I remembered that I have always loved being physically connected to the earth. I remembered the joy that I have when I go spelunking and end up covered in mud. I remembered why I am always taking off my shoes, particularly when I eat. I remembered why I strip the moment I get home. I remembered the feeling of sun on salt covered skin and falling asleep in the open air without even a tent wall to separate me from the breeze. I remembered why I am always opening windows and turning off air conditioning. I remembered stories about my dragging a bucket outside and standing in it to take a shower in the rain when I was very young. I remembered spending hours and hours as a child holding on to trees and staying very still so I could feel the vibrations between myself and the forest. I remembered why it is that my body is powerful.
And I realized that the dangerous part of me that I have been afraid of is not that I am sexual. I have felt the pressure to control that which is animal. And what I take away from the week is that there is no reason for me to be tamed.
I'll let you in on a little arrogance I have: When I would hear from some really (or formerly) straight-laced person about how BM changed their views, I would think that was really great for them, but that I didn't need BM to do that for me. I am able to challenge myself right here in the city. And some of what they're talking about is simply what I have always believed and what has always set me a little apart. I retained a frustration that the kind of community and freedom which was celebrated at Burning Man stayed on the Playa or stayed somehow locked within communities and still hasn't managed to seep into the general world. And so I couldn't really see why I "needed" to go.
And now I'll let you know about a little problem I have: In preparing to go to BM this year (although not only then) I had a hard time knowing that I was going to do something and spend money on something which was entirely just for fun. It felt self-indulgent, selfish. And therefore unnecessary. I have a tendency to feel guilty and wrong whenever I do something which is unproductive, which is just for me. Something which does not benefit others, improve my body/mind or which is simply hedonistic & solo. (The "solo" is a big thing here -- if I am with others then that alone makes anything ok).
And so I left for Burning Man with a resolve to avoid taking on responsibility, to immerse myself in an environment in which everyone is supported in saying exactly what he/she wants to do and then doing it, to give in to my impulses. And I expected no revelations or transformation. It was a challenge. I wanted to see what it was like to spend a few days just listening to me.
The release for me came in the form of a sandstorm. I had been there for less than 24 hours. I went with my group out on our art car, an exposed trailer decorated a la rainforest with a DJ set-up. We were out on the Playa when the wind gathered speed and whipped up the dust bringing a total white-out which lasted for hours. And I did exactly what I wanted to do: I danced. We had a dance party in the middle of a storm and I spun and stomped and reveled in the rawness of it all. I was covered in dust, running in the sun, sweating, and grinning wildly under my dust mask and goggles.
That night I danced exuberantly in the open air and rode my bike all over the playa. I lay down in the dirt, stared at the stars, exulted in the hugeness of it all.
On the second day, when we were hit by another intense white-out, I was left alone in the camp and I went walking. I searched for the right place to be. I passed people holed up in their shelters, taking refuge in Center Camp, covering themselves up. It started to rain. I walked in the middle of the street. I joined a group dancing outside on the Esplanade. When the wind died down a double rainbow stretched across the playa from the Man to the mountains and then became clearer and sharper until we could see the elusive violet and it looked like a triple rainbow. I danced away from the group and towards the rainbows.
And so it continued. I had no revelations of community. I loved the art and wanted everyone there to find a way to bring that creativity into their everyday worlds without fear. I talked with a guy during a dust storm who was wearing a cute black skirt and no top who confessed he had arrived wearing a polo shirt and cargo shorts. I told him he looked really cute and fantastic. I hope that his wardrobe in the outside world will at least contain more colors now. But the overwhelming feeling for me was one of comfort and familiarity. I understand why they say "Welcome Home."
But more than anything I remembered. I remembered that I have always loved being physically connected to the earth. I remembered the joy that I have when I go spelunking and end up covered in mud. I remembered why I am always taking off my shoes, particularly when I eat. I remembered why I strip the moment I get home. I remembered the feeling of sun on salt covered skin and falling asleep in the open air without even a tent wall to separate me from the breeze. I remembered why I am always opening windows and turning off air conditioning. I remembered stories about my dragging a bucket outside and standing in it to take a shower in the rain when I was very young. I remembered spending hours and hours as a child holding on to trees and staying very still so I could feel the vibrations between myself and the forest. I remembered why it is that my body is powerful.
And I realized that the dangerous part of me that I have been afraid of is not that I am sexual. I have felt the pressure to control that which is animal. And what I take away from the week is that there is no reason for me to be tamed.
8.27.2007
coconut water better than gatorade!
Of course with BM coming up, I'm all into learning more about re-hydration. Turns out that whenever you're feeling your electrolyte count dropping, you should reach for a young coconut water instead of a Gatorade or Powerade or whatever other neon colored drink you normally crave. It's not likely to cause stomach upset and is just as effective. And all natural! (This info verified in a research article reported by National Institutes of Health)
8.26.2007
hovering
I feel somehow like I am hovering just off the ground, that there's a thin layer of air between my body and everything around me. In my work, I am between things, great things are about to start but have not yet started. Past projects are nearly done but have not quite let me go. Socially I am reconnecting with people, but am stuck permanently in the present participle, not connecting long enough or regularly enough simply to be connected. In dancing, in climbing, I am repeatedly starting again after a break -- the length of the breaks are shortening, but it's so different from how I once was there's no way for me to think that I'm back.
And then there's dating. There is where I understand that air has mass, that there is a distinct cushion of vibrating molecules bouncing around between myself and others. I want someday to reach through that space to actually touch another, to merge boundaries, to feel the exchange of electrons, to trust that. But to do that, I think -- somewhere -- I have to land.
And then there's dating. There is where I understand that air has mass, that there is a distinct cushion of vibrating molecules bouncing around between myself and others. I want someday to reach through that space to actually touch another, to merge boundaries, to feel the exchange of electrons, to trust that. But to do that, I think -- somewhere -- I have to land.
8.24.2007
Karaoke Time: Baby Got Book
Audrey sent this video to me. She found it on GodTube. I'm inclined to think it's brilliant. It's also hilarious. And disturbing. I don't know if it's effective. But now I have heard of the Momentum Church... Where the heck is my KJV?
8.23.2007
shiny green, sparkly orange
Unsurprisingly, I have decided to take on a crazy task with little to no time to finish it. Having nearly completed the basic level of prep that I need to do to get to Burning Man, I have succumbed to my inner drag queen and am busily attempting to make costumes. Yes, I am just getting started now. But seriously, how could I fight the vision of shiny chartreuse pants as a base with various sparkly orange pieces to layer on top? Once that sort of thing gets in your head you just have to manifest it in the real world. This is just to augment the pink & white glitter top & mini ensemble that I had lying around. My bike has been a happy sparkly pink & yellow for a while & sometimes a girl just has to live up to her wheels. It's just too bad that the little disco ball ornaments I used to have on it flew off once when I hit a speed bump...
8.22.2007
lesson: stay open
Again and again I re-learn that I simply need to keep myself open. My world is magical and it always has been. As a child I used to practice having my "neutral" face be one that was approachable. I have always known that this is the better way to be.
This morning I was looking for sources for meditation. I am trying to bring that into my life, wanting to do it more formally than my current attempts. After poking around online for a while I took a break and went outside. I was on my sidewalk, checking my sun shade for holes. A woman rode by on her bike. She called out, "Are you going to Burning Man?" I said, "Yes! It's my first time!" She grinned and waved happily. "Bring lots of water!" Then a moment later, "Bring lots of color!" I smiled and waved back. She continued on her way down the street.
My sunshade was up and it looked perfect. Pretty excellent for a chance used purchase.
The woman returned. She came back to tell me about a meditation area that she'll be supporting at BM, inviting me to join them. Her name is Radiant Jewel.
There have been many times that a stranger arrived to invite me to an event or to just share a thought. If I stay open, if I know and say what I need, I am open to magic.
This morning I was looking for sources for meditation. I am trying to bring that into my life, wanting to do it more formally than my current attempts. After poking around online for a while I took a break and went outside. I was on my sidewalk, checking my sun shade for holes. A woman rode by on her bike. She called out, "Are you going to Burning Man?" I said, "Yes! It's my first time!" She grinned and waved happily. "Bring lots of water!" Then a moment later, "Bring lots of color!" I smiled and waved back. She continued on her way down the street.
My sunshade was up and it looked perfect. Pretty excellent for a chance used purchase.
The woman returned. She came back to tell me about a meditation area that she'll be supporting at BM, inviting me to join them. Her name is Radiant Jewel.
There have been many times that a stranger arrived to invite me to an event or to just share a thought. If I stay open, if I know and say what I need, I am open to magic.
8.21.2007
my doc subject is getting into the news
Working up a doc about this company, Zivity. I love their approach and am very excited to see how it plays out!
read more | digg story
read more | digg story
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