Saturday, May 27, 2017

Smoke and Mirrors









I've been thinking a lot about "selflessness" lately.
And I've come to the conclusion that, 
to me anyway, 
it does not mean becoming bland, or silent, or the same, or nothing. 
I guess to me I see being selfless as just seeing yourself and others and the natural world as interconnected and ever changing with courage. 
Recognizing yourself and everything and everyone else trying, learning, coming, going, dying, hurting, asking, walking, breathing, listening, overwhelmed, underwhelmed, unkempt, vibrant and endless 
just means you start to see less and less space between you and all of it.

Selflessness is just 
a lessening of the distance.

I guess I've been trying to lessen the distance by asking questions instead of assuming. 
Because I don't think assuming is incredibly helpful.

So I have been asking questions. 
And asking questions and truly listening and trying to understand has turned out to be magical.

In a perfect world the asking of questions can unveil things.
They can help disillusion and correct your vision to some degree.

Clarity and closeness and courage.

However, the world is broken to some degree. 
(Possibly)
There is a twist in it. 
(Possibly)
But in anycase we naturally all see it differently.

So you may receive false answers to questions honestly asked.
You may speak the familiar language but the ciphers are different.
You may honestly answer questions and find they fail to translate correctly.
You may speak as truthfully as you know how to but find out later you were under informed.
You may act with good intentions but fail.
You may truly care but cling too tightly.
You may truly care but grasp to lightly.
You may be somewhere and elsewhere all at once.
Your mind may breathe and sit in open fields while your hands make coffee drinks. 
You can be with someone only to find they are not with you.


And that's where Grace comes in. 
I use that word because it's my word 
for the beautiful life that is.
 Just because.
It is the giver and the taker.
The balancer.
It is a forgiver and a teacher. 
The change and constancy.
It is the breathing life.


But I suppose an important component to loving and forgiving and the seeing with clarity more easily this world is also the loving and forgiving and the searching and the asking of yourself. 
A finding of peace regardless and forgiving yourself 
 For all the questions you never got or thought to ask.
For all the questions you were to afraid to ask.
For even the times you had no idea how to ask. 
For all the answers you gave with such certainty only to find that later they changed. 
For all the time it took.
For all the time you didn't take.
To watch the fluidity of you mirrored in another and seeing the rippling people pass through your rippling. 
And know that even though you don't know if it will all be alright in the end or not
 but trying not to let that uncertainty harden you or let your fears harm your chances of living fully .
The grace in
Taking care but also 


Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Will and Grace




It is the choosing.
And the options.
(But how will I know what to do?)

It is dropping things.
 And picking things up.
(But, wait-)

It is sitting in the shade.
And squinting into the sunlight.
(So what happens if I open my eyes wider?)

It is the burden
And the bearer.
(But how will I know which is which?)

It is a funny remark 
And the sad truth behind it.
(Then how will I know when to laugh?)

It is the asking
And the listening.
(But what questions do I ask?)

It is the building up
And the wearing down
(What will happen when I get worn out?)

It is the holding.
And the letting go.
(But, what if-)

It is the circle 
And the line.
(Then how will I know where to start?)

It is the trying.
 Just because.
(But how can I be sure?)

Music:

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Stranger Thinks




A few months ago I was finally ready to crawl all the way into the hole I'd been preparing for a long time. But I only made it halfway. 
I may have been technically alive but in every other way I was, what I can really only describe as, done. 
And I didn't even want to try to get out of it because I had found a measure of peace in that level of detachment. 

But lately I've had some wonderful opportunities to get to know a few people in my life and have really amazing conversations and have made some really kind and honest connections. And there is also a profound peace in that too. 
I've been dancing a lot.  I've been hanging out more with my friends, I've been visiting some new places and going on adventures.
I've been exploring what I might want to do with my life. 
I'm not going to lie. 
That last one still wrecks me sometimes. 
I think it is just because I forget that I just have to make a choice and move forward and let things unfold and adapt accordingly. But for some reason those decisions can feel like monsters in my chest. But I'm managing to quiet them by remembering:
A) That hypothetical pitfalls are not the same as real pitfalls. 
B) That I'll never truly be stuck. 
C) To chill the fuck out. 
D) To hug my dog.
E) To eat cold cereal and read a book. FOR FUN. (I know. I'm a fucking menace.)

Because, I mean, a lot of life can sort of feel like this:


#conflicted.

I've also realized that while I take responsibility for who I am, who I was, and who I am becoming and the choices I have made, and make, and will make I've been helped by the most amazing and kind people along the way when my choices have not worked out as planned. And I am so grateful. And I can only hope that I communicate that gratitude in someway whether it be saying words or giving back in some measure.
I've been finding a lot of joy in being a woman and being human. I've been loving being amongst  women and men and honest and kind humans who inspire me with their courageous vulnerability. 

I've seen and felt a bit of what self-loathing can do. I've seen glimpses of how much pain loved ones in my life are in. I've seen guilt rip people's minds apart. I've seen it devour their sense of self-worth and have also seen it help them make changes in their life.  I have seen anxiety crush them at times. And I know I'm not immune to those feelings either. 
But I think those things can heal. 
Maybe not all the way. 
Maybe not all at once. 
Maybe not all the time. 
Maybe not forever.
But healing can happen.


I just wish they could see and know how good they are. How enough they are. They are not deficient or worthless or trapped. They are big, bright souls that I am so grateful to know. 
I'm surrounded by people who grant me the grace of time and patience even when they are dealing with their own turbulent lives. 

I can offer love, listening, dad jokes and dog memes. 
But often times I find I don't have anything to say in response to their words. 
Because sometimes there are no words that can help.
Or the only words I can think to say seem insufficient. 
But my heart explodes and a hug or standing really close to someone or some other form of appropriate physical affection is all I can give to express that sometimes.

I'm a human. I make coffee drinks for a living. I dance around my house a lot when I'm home alone. I drink too much coffee. I read fantasy novels and books about mindfulness and giggle at weird things sometimes.
My life is wild. I know. 

In any case, I'm waking up again. And it's warm outside.

Music Stuff:
Nobody Speak: DJ Shadow Feat. Run the Jewels
Tsar B: Escalate
Louis the Child: It's Strange