After 7 years, I moved. You're invited. (schmoments.blogspot.com)

building stairs @ deep ellum

Well, I guess this is goodbye.  And hello.

I began this blog in 2004 as a way to track my fitness.  You guys surprised the shit out of me by becoming, instead, one of the most important tools in my spiritual development.  We became for reals friends.  We rode out illnesses, marriages, divorces, babies, deaths and spiritual awakenings.  We became friends outside of the blogging world.  We sent each other real live mail.  Texts.  Calls.  Facebook messages.  I wrote for you sometimes.  And I know that sometimes, you wrote for me.

I was like a hungry caterpillar who didn't know she was hungry, and you spiritually fed me.  I ate.  I grew.  You fed me.  I grew.  I fully believed I was on my way to become the best caterpillar I could be.

In something like 2009, though if I really consider it, probably years earlier, a cocoon began to form around me.  Instead of comforting and safe, it felt terrifying and bleak.

I became very ill for about two years.  From lab work and MRI's, dr's could see some stuff was really wrong, but no one seemed to know why or how to make it better.  Most of the details so took over my existence that I never want to discuss them again; the worst of it was that for awhile, I I couldn't even take my students on field trips, drive or stay alone.   B was my rock.  He took care of me when I could not take care of myself, which was most of the time.  I was so dependent on him that I would have nightmares of something happening to him.

When I happened to be at my worst physically, his sweet mom called us to say she had non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.  And it was Stage 4.  It was time for B to take care of someone else.

When he went to KC to care for his mom during her first treatment, we flew my own mom in to help take care of me.  She complained of abdominal pains.

About six weeks later, she appears to be 7 months pregnant.  A cancerous tumor has rapidly grown on her ovary, they tell us.  Turns out, it is also non-Hodgkin's lymphoma.  Two moms in two months. They feel it is inoperable.

I email my truly amazing therapist of seven years to draw support.  So much of my life had been changed because of her, but like my relationship to B, I suspected I was probably overly dependent.  In fact, when I moved to Dallas, I panicked about my inability to leave her.  I begged her to continue our sessions via Skype, which we did. This time,  return correspondence includes that she has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and will no longer be seeing patients.  "I'm sorry that you are being hit with three cancers," she said.  "I want you to know that you're very special to me."  

I always thought there was something secretly spiritual lingering beneath the professional relationship between a therapist and client.  

She later died.

My caterpillar body, life as I knew it, seemed to be dissolving.

Desperate, I bought an 800 dollar juicer and began pretty religiously following Gerson Therapy.  I began to finally gain strength physically as I watched other parts of my life slip away.

Reaching for any access to inner strength, I paid what felt like a gazillion dollars to learn Transcendental Meditation.  B went as well.

Many amazing things happened after this.  Both of our moms went into remission.  I got better, physically, little by little.  I even lost about sixty pounds.  I seemed to find my body's recipe for happiness; most importantly, I learned that what she says goes, no questions.  Oddly, for Bruce and I, meditating was the beginning of the end.  Maybe the old us' didn't have the sense of infinity to let go of what needed to be released?

The relationship was easy to release at first; the unbearable parts came later, when I realized how long he had been miserable, waiting for me to push the Eject button.  B and I had been like two friends who picked one another from the Catalog Of Intellectually Defendable Decisions to be life partners.  We realized that as far as love goes, that catalog sucks.

Another version of me, shed.  Am I the same person, I wondered?  Am I who I planned to be at all?  Am I the same chick who had a soon-to-be doctor husband and a baby plan? 

broken open @ deep ellum

I have no plan.

I'm a chick who busted out of a cocoon. I don't know what's next, but I know it will be perfect for whatever it is.  I'll be here: schmoments.blogspot.com

Namaste,
Faye

3/30: Playing it small?

morning coffee spot two: ghettoasis trash waterfall ambience + coffee + books

"There is no passion to be found playing small- in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living...And as we let our light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same."         -Nelson Mandela, '93 Nobel Peace Prize Speech

Something I can thank Alanon for is the filling in of many of the gaps in my spirituality so that I have the faith to wait for answers to appear spontaneously, unfolding in perfect time.  Earlier today, an answer revealed itself regarding a relationship in my life which has changed.   It occurred to me at once how I often played it small in an attempt to keep the boat steady.  And isn't it usually about fear?  I read a quote recently about change being scary because we know what we're giving up, but we don't know what we're getting.  

A catalyst for my mini-realization seemed to be reading a truly beautiful, inspirational blog entry of a friend of mine:

"Hear ye, hear ye, I’ve resigned my sovereign reign over tiny kingdoms, no longer bound by my own self-imprisonment. With nothing left to numb me, got me  thinking/wondering – Am I even still the same me? I know this is true: I feel full and I fully feel."

I've denied the magnificence of the universe, the collective, infinite, source, God, many times to impose the will of my tiniest self, of my tiny kingdom.  Our smallest selves will take what we can get, because we have a sense of poverty.  Our infinite selves know that poverty is an illusion, and so is net loss.  Our infinite selves have permission to shine brightly and unapologetically, and to be the first one in the room to light up, if need be; isn't it true that that high vibration consciousness is contagious anyways?  "We give others permission to do the same."

Today, I am grateful for feeling full and fully feeling.

2/30: Here Comes The Sun

‎"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see."
Henry David Thoreau

In a lot of ways, I feel like I've recently woken up (or am waking up) from a long, maybe two-decades long, waking sleep.

It was my winter. A time of dormancy.

Even in winter, the seeds hidden beneath the layers of snow and frozen ground are no shorter on potential, patiently waiting for their due time. Perfect, perfect due time. And everything's a paradox anyways, isn't it, when we consider the illusory nature of a linear experience. Nothing is liner. The seed and the grown tree take up the same space. Enlightenment and ignorance. Love and hate. Break it down: sameness.

I can sense the sun coming; but, it's always been here.

Today, I can feel it's warmth. Like, in a girly drink with an umbrella kinda way.

1/30: feelings aren't emergencies

my partner teacher's abacus

So, I took on a 30 day blogging challenge. It's day one, and I am under the weather, but I'm still showing up. I dig a blogging challenge, and it's been a long while since I've indulged in the social part of blogging. I remember the days of Creative Every Day and Self Portrait Challenge. Aw.

I've not been quite myself for a couple of weeks now. It really comes down to taking exceptional self-care; time to get back on the bandwagon. The Faye recipe for health and happiness seems to be Transcendental Meditation + daily exercise + sleep. Add a little green juice and a lot of gratitude. The meditation went first, and the gratitude went last. So, let's work backwards: I'll stop whining by way of raising my vibration to the tune of gratitude. And then so on.

I'm so grateful...

-That acceptance is the answer to all of my problems today- that I don't need to solve how I feel in this moment. For today, I can let it be, and I'm so glad I know that.

-That I finally get that feelings are not emergencies. I don't need to *do* anything besides nothing. Talk about liberation.

-That when I pray to be surrounded by full of light people, the universe just responds and responds and responds.

-To hang out with kids all day.

-To be surrounded in nature.

-For my connection with God, however heatheny my version of God might be to someone else. My connection with God has been absolutely transformed over the past year, especially the past two or three months. I'm dumbfounded.

-That abundance is abundant.

-The love is the only truth.

Lately, whenever I feel a sense of or a worry of poverty about something (afraid of not having enough or of losing what I have), I take that moment to reflect on how that particular thing (money, time, love) is already abundant in my life and to pray about more. I'm amazed by the power of prayer, and I kinda can't believe I'm saying that.

in the dew of little things

grateful for this view.

From The Prophet.

On Friendship: Because I'm feeling very blessed.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

grandpa penis?

Yup. Grandpa penis. Latest google search to find my blog. Things are really going down hill around here.

my new girlfriend: Lily Allen

my new boyfriend: Shakespeare

I'm watching the BBC "Shakespeare Retold" series on Netflix. Tonight, I watched the "Much Ado About Nothing" episode.

Much to the dismay of old, more romantically pragmatic Faye, these days I'm feeling secretly hopeless romantic-y. Whaa? AND I'm on a dating moratorium. For who knows how long. I have decided to date Shakespeare for a bit; because, I'm nerdy like that.

I was never the girl who dreamily imagined my wedding day or had lots of crushes on boys. I was terrified, since before I ever dated, of losing myself in relationships. For reals; I was the youngest cynic ever. 

Love. Love. Love. Who knows what's real and what isn't real out there; I'm not sure what I believe in these days, and I guess it's not time to know. "More will be revealed," I am often being told these days. Wisdom. And so maybe stuff like this only exists in literature, but I find the words of Beatrice hopeful for the kind of relationship I would secretly one day hope is for reals. Secretly. Maybe. Okay, yes. I duuuunnnno.

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest."

- William Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing, 4.1

SONNET 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

                    Analysis (from Faye's lurve schema):

                I like the analysis below; however, it is my opinion/feeling that, whether over                    lifetimes or what not, the purpose behind a romantic relationship always becomes complete at some point (probably!).  So, I don't know if I could say that the only love that is true is also an ever fixed mark; unless we can say we're talking about love in general and not necessarily romantic love.  As hopeless romantic-y as I am, I don't know about forever.  It feels presumptuous (for me). 

 


Analysis (from Wikipedia):


The poet begins by stating he should not stand in the way of true love. Love cannot be true if it changes for any reason. Love is supposed to be constant, through any difficulties. In the sixth line, a nautical reference is made, alluding that love is much like the north star to sailors. Love should not fade with time; instead, true love lasts forever. When it says "Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom," Shakespeare is saying that love is timeless, and only death can do it part.
The last two lines employ a paradoxical conceit. If there is no such thing as true love, the poet says that neither has he ever written, nor has anyone ever experienced true love. However, because the poem has been written, it means the poet, ultimately, is right about true love.

trying to learn to play this

shit that scares me: finally being alone.

(my little sister with our dad's guitar)

And by alone, I mean aloooone. Margaret, are you with me, perhaps? Apparently, I have a Higher Power who will make sure I'm ok as I finally accept the changes in my life. I have threatened to kick some serious ass if this is not true. Not out loud. But for reals- I'm gonna.

Seems like as good a time as any to finally learn to play the guitar. I hope I like it. Everyone in my family seems to play, and it looks fun. Listening to my dad play guitar growing up is among my favorite memories. You know, it occurred to me: for someone who is so passionate about the arts, I've not tried them, really. What's up with that?

p to the owerless = s to the erenity

(Someone should teach me how to use my Canon Rebel- I kinda like this eerie feel, but I wish I knew how to catch the actual blackbirds. Faye advice window = open.)

Serenity comes and goes.

The aspect of this which leaves me grateful and hopeful is that as my sense of serenity waxes and wanes, my own capacity, or my edge, still advances forward. In fact, the dim light of my waning serenity seems to correlate to the advancement of my emotional frontier.

That’s growth, people.

In education, we refer to Vygotsky’s Zone of Proximal Development. Stay with me- this is so not “yawn.” If I spice it up with my whitegirlfromthecountry urban funk, would that help?! Fo’ shizzle. Fellow constructivism junkies, gather round the campfire…

The Z to the one of Proximal Development. This, playa’ hate-a’, is the place of optimal learning to where we try to steer our children; it could be defined as the particular p to the osition in which one is able to advance only with a bit of scaffolding, or support. Um…gin and juice. Grills. To the window. To the wall…The idea is that then, those particular supports may be removed. The frontier has advanced, and now, the classroom supports you in your new position. And so on, my bitches. Hate the game, hate the game.

The way I explain it to my students, whom I try to train to choose their own difficulty levels, etc., is something like this:

“If you feel a little bit confused, and you have to think hard, try out different ideas or get a bit of help from tools around the room, me or each other- you are in the right place. If you are so confused that you have no idea what you are doing, you need to take a step back- don’t worry! You’ll get there, but not by jumping ahead. If you are doing something that is super easy, you are probably not growing today, and it is time to push yourself.”

(more blurries= why not? a day at work w the iphone. my feet are the grown up ones.)

I had to enter my own emotional Zone of Proximal Development to accept and live out my powerlessness over others and over situations which I do not need to solve, as the universe will reveal and resolve in her own time. For years, I have learned of such concepts from books. I was surprised (mother effing shocked) to find that, in spite of my desperate immersion in literature, I had done a lot of spinning of my wheels; my capacity, without some help, had been tapped out like a trailer park keg of Miller High Life.

Now, I have different kinds of tools- just as the students in my classroom have tools to help them advance. I’ve been living it and immersing in it instead of simply learning about it in books. And, the frontier of my edge- it is advancing. I do not always have a sense of serenity, but I have a sense that something greater than me- an underlying rhythm, a pulse, an evolving and responsive universe- is in guiding this ride with compassion.

It has been terrifying and liberating so far to let go of the power I thought I had; but, the fear is something like a fear of the unknown or even withdrawal from a lifetime of holding on so tight. I know this, because I can sense the paradox: though sometimes afraid, I’ve never felt safer. Or braver. And more than anything: alive again, with the pleasures and pains and courageousness of a life out of hiding. Which, of course, makes me think of Kahlil Gibran's words:

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure, Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor, Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. -Kahlil Gibran

In other news: After something like six years, I’m moving my blog. Or, at least I have another blog I will probably consider more primary. I might merge the two eventually, and I might keep this one up. I dunno. I’ve realized I want to talk a lot more about scandalousy things that I’m not sure I should put on here- which means I tend to not update here these days. Good scandalous. Not bad scandalous. I just think I’d have a lot more fun if I didn’t feel the need to hold back. I’d be happy to tell ya where I am if you are a girlfriend or an online friend- others, just ask. But be warned: I’m more socially inappropriate than I may have let on.

baby jesus + boxed wine + fedora

= shit I bought at Target one day. I bet the guy wondered what kind of drunken vigil I was having when I got home. I just couldn't pass up the Baby Jesus candle, and the box of wine is self-explanatory. Okay, I'm much less lushy than I'd like you to believe; but, I do have a goal of having a glass of red a day, and it seems to happen more often when it comes with a convenient-pour spout, straight from the top of my fridge.

Went to an improv show today. It was so dang hilarious that I'm thinking about taking one of their classes. Seems like I'm coming alive from eternal illness and actually being social again, you say? Why yes! It's true! I've set intentions to get to know more people in my community, people who are full of light, and heck if it's not just happening all over the place.

Of course, who can go wrong in Oak Cliff. I love it here. I love the trees and taco stands, creepily fabulous elotes, how everyone has weird glasses (speaking of: WHEN is the Lisa Loeb line coming out?! The website says spring...) and appreciates things like bicycle lanes, small business, diversity.

I'm getting closer every day on my tattoo...I'm thinking something about namaste, infinity, unity, a blackbird(s). Not sure. Margaret says that she is a good person to get my first tattoo with, that I should get it with her this summer. :)

I've gone on a penis moratorium, by the way. If you have a penis and are not a family member or eunich, check back with me in a couple of weeks.

Today, may I live the questions...

fear + impermanence + infinity + trump card

When I am afraid, it means that I have lost my connection with the truth that I am a part of the infinite, of the unity consciousness of which everything is a part.

What is there to fear when endings are illusory?

I was reminded of this last night when I was meeting with some new Transcendental Meditation friends; I had put out the intention to know more local tm'ers, and of course, the universe ALWAYS responds. Clay is 32. Megan is 31. The fact that we were all in the same place at the same time, all having had the same desire to connect, is notable. We talked about our experiences and transformations since TM, the cycles, the wax and wane of spiritual awakeness- Even some metaphysical freakyness- something I rarely get to swap experiences on.

Later that night, I had a little opportunity to put into practice the beliefs of which I had been reminded. I was spending time with a friend and got my feelings hurt when they ditched for something better. I wanted to grasp at the friendship, for it to be to the other as I saw it. I wanted it to be as close as it had been (in my mind?), enough so that I would not have been the one ditched. Grasping.

Grasp the bubble on the stream because you want it to stay; see that it has disappeared. Grasp because you wish that things you love would not cease to be, or accept the impermanent state of reality. I tend to especially grasp onto circumstances under which I've allowed myself to feel vulnerable. Some of the relationships and situations on which I've grasped have remained, and some are like the bubble.

Impermanence. Herein lies a paradox. Everything is impermanent, like bubbles on a stream, popping in and out of existence; however, in it's more refined state, nothing is impermanent, and everything is infinite. Jobs. Friendships. Marriages. Dessert. All impermanent...in a sense.

I give my Trump Card to infinity- infinite unity and sameness. Everything will fall away, yes; however, in it's essence, nothing falls away at all.

Upon reflection, I realized it doesn't matter that I was not with my friend. My friend and I will always be together, a part of the same unity of which we are all manifested. If the friend drops away completely, if someone I love awakes from this life into another, if I am abandoned by someone I love deeply, if someone doesn't like me or cuts me off: these are the fears of my neurosis, what Eckhart Tolle would call "pain-body." These are the fears of my ego, and they are sometimes easily activated- especially lately, as my consciousness has been preparing to let go of some of these old "pain-body" fears. I swear in yoga the other night, I could sense my ego speaking: "No. No. No. No. No."

Liberation from fears can be a ticket into the present moment.

May I live in the present moment, knowing that any of my ego-fears do not need my attention and can be given to my higher power; in this case, knowing that at the same time, everything will be lost, and nothing important can be lost. May the spaciousness provided by this liberation provide me with presence to really live the moment with gratitude.

the universe is responsive + why I really went to Cuba

Surrender.

That much, I figured.

I had asked the universe for courage + liberation. Courage to surrender. Courage to really be alive, that is. Liberation from my walls. There are many kinds of living and of love; I was hoping, though I assumed far off, for love which floats in the the messy cytoplasm of vulnerability and ambiguity. Love that takes courage. To be a person who loves courageously, leaning more into intuition and less into the endless box-checking of the prefrontal lobe.

Go to Cuba, the universe whispered into my soul. Six weeks later, I stepped into the balmy Havana air; however, I did not connect this to my impulse for vulnerable, courageous loving. "I'm here to define my convictions," I said. I wanted to know how to be the best possible human to meet the needs in the world which made my heart feel heavy. "Go to the source to define your convictions," I said. "Stand face to face with other people's needs. Immerse. Only then will you know what you really believe regarding your convictions in the face of the world's suffering."

I remember being surprised by my tears in Cuba. One long walk along the Malecon, from my friends' home back to the pre-revolution art deco hotel, my tears were hot and angry. I had not been prepared for the thick, gray, heavy weight of oppression. I had not been prepared to face the gap between my own privilege and the poverty standing before me, most notably the poverty in freedom. I had the sensation of having eaten the forbidden fruit, a paradigm shift in my view of my place in the world.

Near the end of the trip, several of us sat around the hotel lobby, eating Cuba-brand snacks and drinking Cuba-brand drinks; we lounged on long, red velvet mid-century couches. Someone asked what brought me to Havana. "I came because I wanted to define my convictions, and-" I found myself stuck, only able to squeeze the rest of my sentence out through tears. "I still have no idea."

That night, I turned in early, exhausted and overwhelmed by my thoughts. Oppression. Poverty. My own divorce. A sense of the letters of my life being shaken hard like Boggle letters; who knows what new words it will spell and what old words will not manifest. I longed for a vice- internet, food, television shows- anything, to soften the raw, heavy discomfort. Even the book I knew would make me feel better, I had given away to a Cuban art dealer that afternoon. Finally, I realized that there was an Elizabeth Lesser podcast somehow saved on my phone. I ran a bath and listened as the universe gave me exactly what I had asked, in a much different way than I had anticipated.

Quoting Howard Thurman, she said, "Do not ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it; because what the world needs is people who have come alive."

In two sentences, my convictions had in fact been defined, right there on the phone that never had to come to Cuba in the first place. Sadness for the oppression of others had been overwhelming me; yet, I was oppressed because of my own stance toward the world. I had asked for liberation; I was liberated from this need to use my mind to decide how be the most "effective" and "helpful" human; instead, I could follow my intuition, my heart? I could FEEL my way to the answers? It is not the kind of response I had at all expected. Instead of reading more books about world economics, I could find what makes me come alive and trust that the rest would take care of itself? The thought of having permission to just be felt like was it's own form of liberation.

********

Soon after returning, I found myself in the most instant connection had experienced so far (I didn't know yet that I would soon be blessed with one lovely connection after another); at the time, I was floored by this. Who knows what's what, but I began to believe in things about chemistry, romance, etc., in which I had long filed into a folder titled something like "unrealistic," "irresponsible," or "teenagerish." This affirmed, it seemed, some of the reasons B and I had kindly agreed to separate from one another.

I have previously been super careful in love- in fact, most would probably say beyond too careful. This time, I thought about Thurman's words, "find what makes you come alive, and it was clear to me that walking this path made me come alive right then. I could feel this so clearly. Opened up. A bit afraid of losing it, or especially losing my newfound hope in this kind of connection.

*****

I had followed my bliss, my life's navigational tool.

Later, I'm overlooking the most kick ass sunset view of downtown Dallas, sharing drinks with a friend. And then, I learned something that felt heart breaking to me.

Details schmetails.  Paid tab. Phone rang. It was a woman associated with TM here in Dallas. "I hope you meditate tonight," she said.

I get it, Universe. Thank you. I went to my car and sank into the infinite of meditation. I cried, and I thought of something I had heard Chogyum Trungpa say about surrendering to sadness as a soft, brave act- The beginnings of being a warrior, he said. In my surrender, I was able to see both my pain and the greater purpose in it at the same time.

This whole thing- not the dating part so much as the crack in my fishbowl of life in general over the past two years- pushed me to a limit I haven't seen in at least a couple of decades, believe it or not- that limit that had caused me to close down in the first place as a little girl, frantically guessing at the emotional climate of the next moment.  But this time was different. Almost as soon as I found my edge, I decided to be brave, to lean into it. I felt like I was standing up for the little girl who couldn't do it anymore.

I think I have been approaching this edge for years, gaining the courage, gaining the strength to knock down the wall which had muted so many of my years. I just needed something to push me over the last tiny part of the edge, into the abyss.  The abyss isn't bad at all; in fact, there's a lot of hope in here. A lot of liberation. A lot of real.

I realized that for me to really have my wish from the universe- to be able to know I could love so courageously, I needed to feel deeply, so intimately, and then for my fears to manifest. On a human level, the emotions were messy, of course; yet, on a soul level, I could consider nothing but gratitude. I got to learn that I was still ok.  It's all gratitude at the end of the day anyways, right? It's interesting to think of what spiritual deals we might have with one another, rather than think of one as hurting another. Especially when we know there is no one and no another.

The duality of my feelings is notable. I almost feel like two people- one that has awakened a great, great deal more than the previous me, and who is capable of loving like I've never before been capable. The other self is the self who can feel pain with a new (recovered) intensity, too. She is the same self who used to be to so afraid to feel anymore that she had shut down to avoid the sorrows; but sorrows and joys have the same key to the same lock.

I can feel all of those years of repression spilling forth, and I am liberated, and I am lighter every day. Later that night, I went to yoga. I cried. Running. Cried. Elliptical. Cried. When I was a little kid, I remember thinking, "I wish I could cry so someone would know how sad I feel." These days, I see glimpses of myself opening back up- after something like two decades. It feels like a total rewiring, if that can be imagined; and, it all has something to do with the confidence of knowing that no matter what, I'll be ok.  Something to do with feeling my infinity.

Who knows who or what is next.  I feel like I can do anything. Then, there are moments where I feel precarious; yet, I remember knowing that I can do anything.  As for my mind- it is mostly fired for now. My mind would have ditched that whole experience a long time ago; in fact, it is B who talked me out of that a couple of times. He would say, "You said you wanted to be good at loving. Love is in the ambiguity." I want to follow what resonates with me, what feels right. How could I not? I see the fruits of it in my life, so shockingly clear.

I have learned that the new me cannot see far ahead, and that is because I am seeing things more as they really are. Impermanent, uneven, perfect reality. My job is not to use my mind to plan a detailed course of action for me life. I already tried that. My job is to follow my bliss, to decide what, in THIS moment, makes me come alive- and to do it.

To quote Lori: Thank you, Higher Power, for everything you bring my way.

namaste.

*In case you know B and I and this post is making you feel bad for him, I should mention he is dating as well. We are still best friends. We have dinner and talk about our dating adventures and our new lives outside of ourselves as a couple. We know it's weird. We don't care.

*Life Upside Down Disclaimer: Half of the shit I say these days, I say the opposite of soon after...Que sera, sera...I'm not claiming to currently recognize the difference between love, a rabbit hole and a bad idea. I have the confidence in my ability to be okay these days, though, and am concerning myself with the very next step and that is it. :)

can't sleep...

i heart the hipstamatic app; i just do.

God,

grant me

the serenity

to accept

the things

I cannot change,

the courage

to change

the things

I can,

and the

wisdom

to know

the difference...

Today, I am thankful for many things, including:

-A four day week!

-And a field trip to the Aquarium.

-A fun time at Hippie church (aka unitarianism); I'm helping with the kids' class. Most notably, there was this string trio- a (kickass) violinist, a guitar player, and this guy who rocked out the mandolin! They also performed the song Blackbird, which has special meaning to me right now, given where I am with things.

-Friends. Friends who talk me through my own dramas- I used to keep most of my dramas to myself, or maybe talk about it, but only once my mind was already made up. These days, it's more of a "come as you are" kind of vibe- much better. I'm coming with my discomforts and my sometimes self-induced drama. "This is just how it feels to be vulnerable," says friend Elizabeth, handing me a comfort Frappaccino. Other friends, who are patiently waiting for me to be ready to share more about what could look like my life crashing down around me, or like the opportunity of a lifetime- depending on where one is standing...Friends at Cafe Brazil for brunch. Friends with drinks. Friends with elotes. :)

-Internet Friends. Margaret and I seem to be going through divorce together, something I'm sure neither of us imagined so many years ago when we met on here, each mostly focused on fitness, each with our boyfriends. We have been blogging buddies for something like 7 years, I think, along with Mia and Lauren. It's amazing how you can meet real friends like this- I did not anticipate it. I mean, for real! Mia and I are talking about working on a teaching project together this year, long distance between here and the Bay Area where she lives. Also, I strongly suspect that Margaret and Lauren and I will all meet up this summer; this has been in discussion for a bit, now. Regarding divorce, I should add that divorce is more of a symptom in the case of B and I- a positive symptom, believe it or not- of a new kind of life in which feelings are really and regularly felt and chances are taken, etc., etc. So, I'm not "going through" divorce as much as I'm "going through" withdrawal from thinking I had everything figured out when I actually had lots of blank spots.

-Pema Chodron's audio book, "When Things Fall Apart." This would be great for people with addictions; she goes very deeply into the concept of just sitting with discomfort, loneliness- refraining from trying to make the discomfort go away. It is an uncomfortable practice, but incredibly strengthening. It really helps me sit with my fears, and I find that when I lean into my fears, really feel them, they pass through me and go away. I have more of a sense of being able to handle much more than I felt I could handle before.

-My camera is FINALLY fixed. It was sadly easy to fix.

-I remembered to take my trash can to the curb for tomorrow.

-I finally fell into a little...depression? for a bit...And, then out of it, thank God. Nothing like dispair. I would describe it as grayness, listlessness, and a heightened sense of anxiety. I started to just feel paralyzed- I had tried to hard to build a "problem-proof" life, only to find that the goal in itself meant I had some pretty serious problems! I fell into this place in which I wasn't sure what directions to move ON ANYTHING without making huge mistakes again, and I just didn't want to move at all. I realized, "I still don't know how to do this, necessarily." I guess the big lesson there was to stop trying to be perfect, and just be where I am. It's human. It's messy. I still like me- some people seem to like me more. Some don't love it so much. Now, instead of assuming that no one will stick around if I go through pain in the ass times or have needs, I'm just making the mistakes that reflect what it's like to start something new; and I get to really know who sticks around for that, instead of the subtle manipulations we can sometimes to do ensure we are "loved." I'm believing more in people. It feels good. Less lonely.

-Realizing that really helped me rededicate myself to extreme self-care. I'm usually pretty good about this anyways, juicing and exercising and such; but, I had fallen off a bit- and now, I'm back on for reals.

-So, I'm kind of "broken open," knowing nothing; but, I am usually feeling liberated by this.

-I had the best yoga session tonight. The energy in the room was amazing. A girl next to me brought her baby, probably about 6 or 8 months. She was crawling all over me during a couple of poses! It was beyond cute- I'm so glad it happened! Little kids can really remind us of the nature of the universe...meant to be silly, mostly worry-free, fun, laughing and falling down and making funny faces at people you don't know.

-This is kind of weird, but I've been going to a 12 step program: Alanon. Wow. This is a special kind of vulnerability, because you are in this room with people just like you, talking about shit you usually don't say- and it's not like a therapist that you pay. Something about the money really changes things, somehow- it saves you from the vulnerable parts a bit. In general, I've done my due diligence in life to be sure that I'm rarely vulnerable to anyone at all- to a truly shocking degree (which is why I'm rambling on about it now...). I can see clearly that this is a huge part of my current path- to find the point of vulnerability and to sit with it. Again. Again. To be loved. To love. To be let down. To see that I'm ok anyways.

-I'm working really hard at just having fun-- I got really serious at some point as a kid, and I stopped being child-like very, very early. This week, I've thought a lot about how it's time to go back and reclaim those years, and just relax and have a great time. Be silly. Be ok. Be spontaneous. Learn something new. I have some things coming up that are kind of fun/scary...

-Getting my house together more, bit by bit. I think I mentioned that B and I had never really unpacked-- if that couldn't have been a clue! I bought a desk last week for my office (to be), and I think I'll probably get around to assembling it this week. I'm grateful for this house- it fits me so well. I love it. I'm not sure if I'll ever want to live with someone again- who knows.

i don't know much, but...

I know I like this: A little tea pot from a little person I teach.

And...

I know I like this. The Fools have taken to lining up by height when I come home. I asked them to try it by birthday, but they just looked at me.

And for this moment, that's about all I know. Guess that's all we really know anyways; but, man, I'm really feeling that for once. Surrender.

How to peel an onion.

Ah, the layers.

In front of me is maybe an inch of visibility- not a whole step- only enough to see that I am probably safe from death or disaster for at least the evening- or maybe until lunch time. Where I am, it is as dark as the Blackbird’s black night.

Today, my thoughts are as empty as blackness. You know that moment in the movies after the bomb has exploded- that strange kind of silence? That is something like the emptiness that I am hearing. There is a ring to it. It is quiet and loud at the same time. It is the panic of the unknown. It is the peace of inevitability.

I’ve tried to control so much; I thought I could do it. Not other people, but the outcome of my own life. The avoidance of pain. Of let down. Of disaster. Sure, the core of control, like that of an onion, is mythical; yet, knowing that makes it no less terrifying to let go of all that I thought I had wrapped up neatly. Holding on. Grasping. And is that something like panic?

I have read books about this, about the virtues of letting go, how beautiful it will be. I’ve known it was time to release that branch I've used to tether myself to the water's safe edge, the only thing keeping me from flying downstream. I remember smiling at the salmon as they hop upstream; silly salmon- you think you can keep that up forever? Let go, the river nudges, gently at first. Sticks and leaves and bubbles fly past at break-neck speeds, toppling over rocks and quickly out of sight.

My enthusiastic faith in the river, in the better life I’ve heard to be found downstream, is replaced with- terror? Something like it. Something immune to rationality, to reality. River: If you don’t let go, the branch will break anyways.

I'm not sure if I let go or if I couldn't hold on anymore. The current hasn’t slowed; I don’t know where I am. I don’t know what the next inch of river brings.

It is dark, and I finally revel in it. The darkness becomes my liberator. I’m not in control; I don’t have to be, and thank God, because I’m exhausted from the misconception. I am seeing the lessons in the darkness. Only in darkness can I surrender to the universe- it is not surrender if I know all of the outcomes, or if I think I do. Only in the darkness can the light find itself.

“Blackbird fly, blackbird fly, into the light of the dark black night.”

I am peeling through the blackness, and I can see the light.

how to rock like Emily Dickinson.

"Adopt the pace of nature.

Her secret is patience."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

simple lovelies

Picking out a new friend when two of your best friends just moved out together.

lighting incense.

writing a little blog, even if it's kind of feast or famine-y.

Happy tea in my kitschy little mug.

reading poetry (Marcie, this is a book I got that day we went to that estate sale(s).