some friends hold the best silence

i visited a forest ecosystem today. there were brambly types and lofty types, there were blue jays, birds of prey and an enormous white cat. there were deer track and dog tracks, and one lone beer bottle. not too bad for an hour out of town. and oh! the river.

at night, the milky way was stunning. i watched orion drift across the sky, the pleiades amuse themselves (they're like the people who hang out in the kitchen at parties. there's nothing different about them, but they seem to have more fun nonetheless), a star fall like a lone firework quietly streaking through the night.

i thought about trees. about the huge banyan tree i'd seen in honolulu, the branches cascading down into roots, how i could walk through them. i thought about palm trees, how they seem to dance in the wind like shaggy fraggles rockin' out to the sweetest tunes. i thought about the tree on 108st i usually touch as i walk by, its trunk expanding past the skinny public swath of green between the road and the sidewalk, its roots upheaving the poured cement. i thought about all the tress i won't meet, the trees destroyed by storms and clearcut by humans who don't know or don't care that those kinds of drastic methods are neither necessary or even beneficial to the value system that's emerging. reading this book is helpful and inspiring, but the best thing is just getting out there. i want to go to california and hang out with redwoods.

i wrote this in my journal: "with just our ignorance, we could get by. it's our shame that debilitates us. making mistakes is one thing, not fixing them is another." we could fix things so easily, we're so clever. but we would often rather be windbags. strange how shame is so powerful. how did we let it grip us so tightly?

i feel re-inspired, like i can smell again. i want to love the parts of life that are awesome.

sense of gratitude

i don't know if it's the free time on my hands, the book i'm reading being a handy reminder of my ability to choose my family, living with a child or even something as simple as an actual autumn this year (instead of the short visit of falling leaves to which i am accustomed), but i've been rockin' with gratitude in the past few days.

what occurred to me this morning as i read and drank tea was the bravery required to love again. to love the first time is to master the fear of the unknown. to then experience death and loss, heartwrenching. but then. to realize that love can recur, with all of the loss and suffering inherent with daily living, and with the added fear stemming from how easily it can all be lost... the strength of will and heart required (even through the argument of 'what else can we do, what else is there?') to try again brought me to a moment's silence.

there is honour there.

enjoying and exerting my freedom and facilitating the opportunity for others to exert their own freedom, this is all that i ask of myself. the exertion and facilitation of freedom can come through so many activities! supporting art, supporting human rights, supporting the sharing of information, supporting self-awareness and respect... sharing my own process, loving and caring for the world around me, listening, asking myself where my food comes from, laughing, playing, seeking out new muses... bringing awareness to the daily processes and difficulties of eking out a dignified life; being compassionate.

time again

it's so easy to become distracted, especially when new toys cross one's path. the reminders, however, are nearly as frequent as the distractions, and today i was reminded again.

the important point isn't what kind of relationship i am forming with someone, it is whether or not i can be vulnerable in front of them.

imagine laying gentle waste to the soul-draining methods of yesteryear. imagine growing according to permaculture, not linear false perfection. imagine listening to the wind and actually being able to understand.

i was getting caught up in the action of a vacation, another land and a fat severance cheque. i was reveling in distraction. beauty has been bubbling up through the cat's shapes on soft surfaces.

and now? and now?

>>attention!<< huxley's birds call. is this ominous? or enchanting? unemployment rolls away the days. painlessly i relax, with wonderful journal entries and trips to the pool shaping the drifts and hollows of almost two weeks.

when i slow down, information comes out through my pores in a way that efficiency invariably avoids. their natures oppose each other; silent saunas and by-the-second management: don't seat them near each other at parties.

i ordered coffee, but not vice versa

i'm writhing gently in a delicious new sweater. we met at a freestore. perfect arm length, smoky orange, comfortable texture; luscious.

recent interactions have been nourishing and playful. they include meetings, cuddles, breakfasts, children and old friends. also, tzadeka's album, available here, although you have to email them. this album is worth ten bucks.

it's interesting watching misplaced emotions in myself. events from the past that threaten to recur feel, well, threatening. but my sub-conscious, while intuitive, is not foolproof when it comes to identifying threats. a friend and i were chatting about how the subconscious can sometimes latch onto erroneous reasoning simply because it wants to latch onto something Now. like a dog afraid of the tree that got stuck by lightning. i feel like saying to my subconscious "dude, you don't have to solve the problems of your past over and over in your friends, romances, jobs. they're done. if you want to get all pissy about it, judge whether you passed or failed, but please recognise that the test is over." i keep replaying it.

great talk with an old friend over poutine and a bison sausage breakfast dish at B's diner. he reminded me that my opinion of people being unhappy or things being sad is my opinion only. that was helpful in assuaging the guilt i feel in regards to a recent series of events. namely, i tried to help someone who reminded me of a major player in my past. it was emotionally dangerous, of dubious use and rather difficult, but i really needed to try. no, i was not detached. no, it didn't work. yes, i still feel responsible for things outside of my control. no, that makes no sense.

it's good to be honest with myself about how ridiculous my actions can be. humour softens. these things are done best over breakfasts at diners. watch out for the coffee though. i got fried on it and then went to a meeting, and had some trouble staying focused. and not vibrating off the couch. i'm still getting occasional spikes of 'wired' coursing through my system. and and and.

i like getting out more and involving myself with community, but i missed solo time to relax this weekend. now i find myself tired on a sunday night, still with things undone (granted, that's normal), and slightly more stressed out than i might have been if i had spent a slow weekend doing 'my thing'. but i also feel happy. like i have a larger purpose and i am fulfilling it.

repainting the interior walls

lots of great inspiration this week about being true to oneself. my roommate came home with a book about why working on yourself doesn't work. i haven't read it so i won't recommend it, but the premise was an interpretation of the law of attraction which for once, didn't irritate me (stop telling me how to manifest a mansion in an age of seemingly endless greed, thanks). i won't sum the book up, because again, i haven't read it, but i will say that it helps to consider that i might not be best served by moving a mountain of strange childhood. instead, just notice where on the mountain i am right now.

that kind of simplicity accounted for most of my weekend. the simplicity of it is almost as amazing as how easily i forget how simple being happy can be. even as i was writing about it, i was forgetting: surround yourself with the things that actually make you happy, like food and friends and co-creation. these things are inexpensive, they are locally found, they are common. then i found this great TEDtalk about how intimacy is healing. guy went and proved it! ah, life is sweet. so i emerged from my cocoon of misery. and connected with an old friend in a way that renewed my trust. i love it when my trust gets renewed without any pressure on the part of my ego.

finally, today i found a neat blog with an inspirational string about changing habits and setting goals. and i realized that through the healing i have been giving myself, i actually feel way better about my body (and how it deserves to be healthy, not because it's my responsibility, but because my body is a clean, lovely awesome piece of earth, not the dirty garbage society claims it to be).

i found that when i allowed myself to really, really feel crappy, things changed. but it was hard to just let myself feel that way. not dwell in it or rationalize it, but not try and solve it either. what happened was something along the lines of me listening to myself. and once my two-year-old, ten-year-old and twenty-year-old all felt listened to, they could stop repeating their fears, crimes and sorrow.

i have no doubt that the emotional self-care i've been practising for years helped that process. but the actual healing involved no journals.

oh, that wasn't the peak after all!

i feel like my heart hurts, but as the untitled rumi poem states,

whoever finds love
beneath hurt and grief

disappears into emptiness
with a thousand new disguises.

i looked into why i let go and found that love was underneath my actions. specifically, i found my shortcomings and my efforts to sabotage something i wasn't actually ready for, even as i wanted it. to let go now instead of "try, try again" is to trust my judgment, my feelings on where i am at and what i am willing and committed to. i took off the rose-coloured spectacles, and maybe less pain will happen because of that. there doesn't seem to be a shortage of pain.

i'm finding an adventurous aspect of pain, well, it's interesting. it's engaging. it's not a well-balanced diet but there is something to it that nurtures me. a friend once told me of his gradual conversion plan to re-label time that could be called "depression" as self-care time; quiet, soft, nurturing little licks of attention and gentleness given by him to him.

and you know, i'm still hungry for life. still ready to rejoice in a thousand new disguises. still wondering what i'll do next and where it will take me. looking forward to unpacking it.

small gem

trust might not be necessary in order to love, but trust seems to be required in order to be loved. how can i receive your love if i do not trust you? why would you open to my affections and attentions when you doubt my motives?

trust is a cornerstone of reciprocal love.