the art of buffets

i sometimes find myself creating habits or patterns out of decisions i have made or things i've enjoyed doing, to the detriment of my more current, changing desires. for example, i get excited in the spring about being outside and doing things, so i book up two or three months of activities. when summer hits, i am over-extended and grumpy, so i cancel everything. by mid-august i'm bored. and so on.

extremes are amusing initially (can i survive a week straight of doing this new, fun, possibly immoral act?), but i think balance requires more skill. especially if the ideal is a fine-tuned balance. i suppose life is like that; the conditions under which life sustainably operates seem rather delicate. mind you, since i've read some older and interesting stuff about gaia theory, my definition of life seems to be evolving. but anyway. i guess i can keep in mind that just because i like ice cream a lot doesn't mean i like a lot of ice cream.

balance. that's some esoteric shit. uh huh.

long live endless days

all awash in celebration, stopping to catch my breath.

summer has the upper hand, and no one minds. camping, festivals and fresh liaisons, staying up far too late dancing; taking chances unheard of in the damp and cautious solitude of winter. the season is plenty and full.

emotionally, this leaves me limp. the flaming lips' song comes to mind; feeling yourself disintegrate. i'm not even sure how i could begin to take stock of the sweeping tide of heart-opening... guests, as rumi calls them: honoured guests. and i a guest-house, each day host to different sensations, observations and reactions.

now entertaining new possibilities, now treading water patiently. here examining wants, needs and leanings. here listening and acting with a motivation and joy not seen in some time. here feeling safe enough to explore new ways of doing things.

that dangerous fire, hope

i've fallen in with a new comrade. new people can feel intoxicating; all the stories can be retold, which seems such a comfort. also, somewhat paradoxically, there is the chance to be someone 'new and different'. comfort and mystery. no wonder we fail so wonderfully at sexual monogamy (as a species; some individuals still seem able). the garden will always have something to offer, as siddhartha found out in hesse's version of the story.

elise lebeau suggests the "i only feel my own emotions" exercise for those in coupledom. i like that one, and have been practicing it occasionally anyway. but i am also going to be away from said fresh new blood for a long weekend, which will give me an opportunity to sort through my internal world and make sure all of the emotions there are, in fact, mine. if emotions can be 'in fact'. which sounds silly. perhaps 'in authenticity' would be a more accurate choice.

it's exhilarating to meet someone who embodies qualities i had pretty much given up on finding. and it's not just the adjectives, it's how they play together: smart AND kind. funny AND quiet. tender WHILE passionate.

of course, there's all the usual fears floating by. loss, tragedy, heart-crushing. bitterness, slow suffocation, love gone sour or stale ... i read through the catalogue, but decided not to order any self-fulfilling prophecies yet. there's always later.

in the meantime, succumb slowly, gracefully to the here and now, to love. succumbing is an excellent dance move.

aimless is the way to go

listening to ugly casanova's album and thoroughly enjoying the experience. today in general has been pretty marvelous. woke up. drank coffee, played with other people's children (i especially like the shy ones). napped, then picked up a fellow gnome on the way to a plant sale. two deities we know grow plants in their backyard, amidst their eden. they're fundraising for upcoming nuptials. in fact, that's where i picked up ugly casanova, among other bands. the sweet roommate nabbed a number of electronica discs at the secondhand store recently, so we're awash in tunage. i brought home an amazing tomato plant, too. it gives zebra-ish tomatoes. mmm, stripes taste better. i tried to go downstairs to see what the striped tomato is actually called, but ended up sitting on the lawn with the wifey, eating a cold snack plate.

i have a sincere desire to go get ice cream and potato chips and watch old episodes of m*a*s*h. i think i shall do that. i participated in a meditation class and brief practice yesterday, and noticed a major distraction was the false need to be 'productive'. fortunately, i'm effortlessly racking up the nap points as well. but just to be on the safe side, a night of eighties tv is now scheduled.

hot summer days, love embodied, empty mind. i feel fortunate, yes.

moon the reaper

focusing on the fear, i notice that i fear being overwhelmed. especially physically. every time i move toward that kind of experience (through dance, drugs or sex, for example) i am met with the terrified possibility of anything happening, and happening before i can even notice or assess the situation. my inherent mistrust of my environment is seen clearly. "if the world really knew me, if i couldn't hide myself behind this capable mask, then..."

then what? the primordial boogie monsters? the sudden shock spreading through the masses (omg, she poos; call the press)... or the simple "let us eat the human for breakfast"? okay, more truthfully: that i wouldn't be able to find my way back. that i would find my way back and feel imprisoned in my body.

well, it's either worth the risk or it isn't. the whole 'letting go' aspect can also be exciting.

me < universe = balance

potential is always there, never here.

listening to the curious wanderings of dj shadow, kept up by coffee (so worth it). entranced in playlists, moving through itunes like it's a series of funneled webs, no wait - treehouse platforms. and i'm hopping, swinging from artist-vines, dropping gems for friends, moods and themes. riding the genre train, skipping over to new tracks, back to old favourites, mixing, matching.

it's a simpler world to live in than my own. putting aside large projects, i'm left with even larger ones. i feel myself trying to dig my head into the sand (re-reading the dune series is a great distraction. i like how i rationalize my distractions as educational. well yes, but they still aren't the activities you internally committed yourself to, are they?) and nothing changes except it gets later. and my shoulders get tighter.

action can be difficult. i guess facing the fear is the thing to do. the fear is ... (drum roll please) wrecking the canvas? i still fear there is a wrong way to live my life. i don't understand this fear, because i also go out of my way to live life by my own rules and values. so what is there left to fear? somewhere in me, have i not faced the particular face of authority that seriously terrifies me? hmmm.

the world is teasing me with loveliness. i'm not sure if the loveliness is distracting me or enticing me further onto the path i have chosen and now resist. this is where my ambivalence is sourced, i think. i can feel the pull, but i'm not sure how to negotiate it. sometimes these pulls suck a person right out into the middle of the ocean. other times, they draw one forth on a river adventure. should i be swimming, i wonder? did i leave the camp stove on? i tread water nervously.

and there it goes again

i blended all the newest additions to my itunes library into one playlist and put it on shuffle. chunks of hip hop whirling past classical and folk. menage à trois, thou art contentious.

the amateur guru recommends pouring all the expression out until fresher stuff can see enough to flow its way to the surface. great. finish creative things and then put/give them away. that goal/vision board is kind of grating on me. although apparently my imagination is a very valuable asset. i'm imagining floating above this right now.

today was an adventure
came out differently than expected
floated out
took a lazy turn at mercury

still an adventure
changing again
an elusive sculpture

briefly, buttons dance
tease me with futures
creating dreams with their
shiny hold

- restless hold
slight and cold -

then onward drift
up rivers i can't see in
front of me