happenings vi

i.
From the air conditioning vent in a bathroom on the other side of the house, I enjoy the smell of watermelon as its being freshly cut in the kitchen.

ii.
On a piece of stationery in blue ink, I write the words, "You are so very loved. Everything is going to be just fine." I randomly select a stranger from the phone book and mail it to them, hoping they are a need-er of truth and believer in signs.

iii.
Upon hearing the news that my former boyfriend is dating someone new, I consciously wait 24 hours before looking up the imagined bastard on Facebook - just so that if I'm asked later I can honestly say I showed some restraint before going stalker on his ass.

iv.
As I'm standing in the backyard, a tiny speckle of white appears and begins to flit around my head when, suddenly, I feel a small drop of moisture hit my cheek. I wonder to myself if I just got peed on by a butterfly...and question whether or not urination is something that butterflies even do. I decide that, pee or no pee, having a butterfly visit is special, and that it's safe to conclude some form of goodness will soon be approaching.

v.
On a bright afternoon, from the passenger seat of my grandmother's car, I gaze out the window and smile at the sight of an old man riding past in his electric wheelchair, which has a small umbrella attached to the back, shading him from the sun. Some minutes later, further down the road, we pass two young girls with a lemonade stand, shielded by a large, brightly colored umbrella. I'm heartened by how full of Cute my world is - and notice how umbrellas seem to make it more so.

vi.
A few days after the swimming pool is filled in, I carry something on to the newly laid grass and get a sense of vertigo as I step over the edge of where water used to be.

vii.
I lie in bed, listening on my iPod to a program designed to induce gamma brain waves, which are known to bring about "heightened self-awareness, and unity with the world around you." Using it as a potential gateway for astral projection, I'm thrilled when I begin to feel the intense vibrations and quakes that signal an oncoming out-of-body-experience...and am then let down when they subside. Unconsciousness comes and sweeps me away.

viii.
At the park in late evening, I sit on a grassy hill along the creek. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a young kid say, "Shut the fuck up." I hear snippets of conversations spoken in Spanish. I notice the reflection of the trees in the water. I watch the ducks; I watch the ducks getting chased by children. I smile at the woman who runs with a kite that doesn't quite make it in to the air. I hear the bouncing of a basketball as a young man dribbles as he walks the path behind me. I see an elderly couple walking together, slightly hunched, and beautiful. I feel the breeze and notice the sunlight slowly fading.

ix.
Feeling rejected by a dear friend, I take a pair of scissors and destroy two well-loved paintings that they'd created and given to me years before...I immediately begin to loathe myself.

x.
I'm walking in the neighborhood late at night when the smell of fresh laundry comes and appeals to me softly from the house I'm passing by. The scent is so inviting, I seriously consider sitting on their porch for a spell...or at least hovering by their doorway a minute or two.

xi.
I tell my pregnant friend that the potential name she's chosen for the baby is the same name as my first oral sex partner. It dawns on me then, she'd probably have been fine not knowing this.

xii.
From in the kitchen, I exuberantly belt out one of my seemingly random sing-songy screams for no other reason than it brings me a unique sort of pleasure...a release...and I laugh when, from the next door neighbor's backyard, multiple dogs start howling in kind.

xiii.
Walking down the street I lived on as as a child, I stop at the house I used to live in and decide to go to the door to see if I could get a peek inside somehow. A little girl answers the door. With no real plan, I pick a name from the air and ask the child if "so and so" is home. When she says, "Yes, hold on," and goes to get them, I turn and run.

xiv.
I write a heartfelt something - and it seems to me, that the one I want most to read it, couldn't care less for my words if they tried.

xv.
The first time at a gay bookstore, a stranger flirts with me. I nervously wish he'd leave me alone.

xvi.
I look through my drawer and find the lonely harmonica I've never really played. I think of how when I bought it I figured that surely, I'd learn to play it eventually. I pick it up, give it a halfhearted blow, and put it back in the drawer.

xvii.
Posing for a picture, I make a crazy face with the thought that a deliberately odd expression will be easier to swallow later than having to see my natural face, odd by nature.

xviii.
Inside the tank, I float naked on the warm, salty water. The body's muscles loosen. The mind's spinning slows. Space and time leave me be.

xix.
I approach my cat on all fours and start barking at him. He stares at me, indifferent. Again I'm delighted by how he beholds me unfazed.

xx.
Riding in the backseat with friends, moon roof open, windows down, music playing - we stop here and there for photographs around the city. The following night, I'm with another friend in the backyard breeze, sharing soul stories over pretzel crackers and wine. Heaven is clearly not a place, I find, but a string of joyful now's when I'm wise enough to open and receive.

xxi.
I find a picture of my mother and I from my first birthday party, and when I see the decorations and the cupcakes that she'd baked herself, I'm almost brought to tears by the effort that she'd made. What had I done for her that year? I'd peed, I'd pooped, I'd cried. I wouldn't even remember the event after all...and still, she thought my little self was worth the celebration.

the year of silas

Forgive me if this all seems silly to you, whomever happens to be reading this. I can't shake the feeling I've approached this whole break-up in the same manner as would some sad, 14-year-old girl. But in my defense, Silas was the first person I had a real, physical, intimate relationship with - and by physically intimate, I'm not talking sex. Sex has been had. It's the boyfriend connection I'm talking about. He's the first person I had visions and real-world plans with. Yeah, I know I'm 30, shut up. :-) Like with most things in this life, I guess I was just born to take my time. Eventually, though, I get there. I did getting together with him...and I will letting him go.

The letting go is what's been so hard. It's happened in fits and starts. It's been a process of both feeling that, "All is well," and "This fucking sucks." It's been a roller coaster of emotions, a ride that I wasn't at all expecting. I naively - and at this point, laughably! - assumed that my intellectual understanding that all thoughts and emotions are temporary would somehow shield me from actually feeling whatever unpleasantness would happen to arise. As if my spiritual insight would automatically skip me ahead to the peace and wisdom that was bound to occur from such a trial. Wrong! While it's true that that knowledge is helpful while going through rough times, no one is exempt from having to actually feel the feelings. How arrogant I can be!

The other night, Emily asked me what I have learned from my time with Silas, and I've been pondering the answer ever since. I think one of the most valuable things I took away from Silas is the true recognition that I don't have to change who I am in order for someone to unconditionally love me. To discover this is huge! - I don't have to change; I don't have to pretend. I am worthy just as I am...just because I am. I opened up to Silas in a way I hadn't with anyone before. My fears, insecurities, physical and emotional flaws, and just my overall blend of weirdness - none of it sent him running. To find this acceptance from someone is a very special gift. One of my greatest joy-killers is my tendency to compare myself with others. But he was always there telling me to stop, reminding me that my only job is to be my best self. "You do YOU" he would always say, and with such a boldness - I couldn't help but laugh and believe him. He looked beyond my silliness and hesitations and saw the "me" that I am underneath all that other crap, the "me" that I was after. He saw that man and spoke to me about him often. Just thinking of this puts such a smile on my face.

Another treasure that I found was the experiential recognition that people who come in to my orbit are 99% of the time people I will love having there in one capacity or another. I used to think people were scary and judgmental - and of course, everyone is in their own way - but I somehow thought things would be awkward and difficult, a useless crowded nightmare it felt like. It's funny how what I imagined would happen seems vague to me now. Proven wrong every time. He helped pull me out in to the world and I got to practice knowing that I CAN be social and that people are LOVELY to get to know. What a privilege to be with someone that was patient enough while I began to piece this all together!

Silas allowed me a foundation to practice what I preach, an opportunity to experience things I'd dreamt about, to redefine myself. He gave me a chance to try new things, meet new people, open up, and just be love(d). It's all a spiritual practice and it's benefits are endless as far as I can tell. So much about life is revealed when you welcome it. That is what's so brilliant about Relationship. The other person shines an enormous spotlight on all your inner bullshit. The things you try to hide are exposed, and even things you aren't aware are in operation appear, able to be seen crystal-clearly. To be in a committed relationship, to do it right, takes balls.

I've alternated between being furious with him for moving on and finding someone new, to experiencing genuine admiration for his willingness to accept Life's invitation. But as I've written this and I see all that I've been given, I can't help but feel happiness for the new guy in his life. He is blessed and lucky. The anger I felt just a few days ago is gone. Silas was the perfect boyfriend....and now someone else gets to feel that too.

I'm proud of my time with him. Grateful, too. I was introduced to Life in a broader way. That, my friends, is something special, and is someone to be honored. I've told him what an angel he was for me. I hope that inside he really heard me.

That forlorn 14-year-old girl may just linger, who knows? I'll let her hang out for a while, it's cool. She'll be gone by and by.

For now, I'm going to douse myself in the cologne he never liked - and enjoy it because I do. It's time I honestly breathe in - and fully feel - this fragrant notwithhimness...

what is built can be torn down again (and what's torn down can once again be built)

I am always receiving your prayers. I am always listening, always watching over you. I can see you've crept a little too far in to the illusion and are once again in need of an invitation Home - and so with pleasure, I am here, like I've always promised you I would be. You need to have this come from a source outside yourself? You need to think this wisdom comes from other than your very own heart? So be it. I will play along. How I love to play along!

You are feeling sad right now, I know. I understand. You're feeling as though you've lost something very special. Not just a significant love relationship but a group of friends you'd come to know and grown fond of. Believing there to be no other feasible options, not taking the time to inquire, and too impatient to sit in the uncertainty, you set out to burn bridges, you erected walls, you resorted to ancient behaviors you'd assumed were long ago buried. You pushed them away. You told them goodbye.  

Now, I won't step in and tell you that how you've handled things is wrong. But I do encourage you to honestly look at your behavior and decide whether or not it serves you. Let's investigate this, you and I, and see what's really going on here. 

You met a man, you had time together, and when you sensed that it was no longer right, with sincere heart, you ended things, and life went on. Just recently he found someone new, and through a chain of words spoken and feelings felt, and a genuine love on both your parts let's not forget, you knew once again that it was time to part ways...for good. This goodbye hurt in a way you'd never known before. Images appeared and assumptions arose, visions of what life would be from now on caused in you quite a panic. It was not just the young man you grieved, but all the friends you'd made through your time and relationship with this man. Relationships you'd forged through this association now seemed lost to you and gone for good. It caused in you a great anxiety, but in not allowing yourself to feel it, in not questioning it, you acted with an impetuousness that you now regret. 

Friendships are very dear to you. In all of their forms, they have always been something that you've treasured. And after all of these years that you've spent keeping friends away and refusing to make new ones, now that you've finally opened to the idea again, it hurt immensely for you to imagine that all of these new connections you'd made would be lost. But instead of trusting, instead of waiting to see, and instead of asking, you gave in to the fear rushing through your veins and you closed up again, tossing them aside - you did it kindly, you did it the best way you knew how, granted - but it was a tossing that took place nonetheless, let's be honest. It was a tossing that gave not even one of those souls a chance to prove your fearful visions wrong. You're feeling lost, lonely, and ashamed. You're feeling that the relationship with the young man as well as all of the new friendships you've spent this past year developing have been obliterated in a single night, and that all of the progress you feel you've made has been in vain, that you're back at square one, forever destined to be alone. Have I got this all right so far? 

Now, let's shed a little light on this.

First, let me remind you that a connection made can never be broken - for the simple fact that there is but One of Us here. I use your dualistic language because it's what your human mind and world are based on, but in actuality, there is only one Thing - one wordless, concept-less thing happening here - and it transcends polarities. It - Me, You, All - gives rise to polarity. So though a seeming coming and going appears to take place, remember that at your core, nothing is ever separate and that includes you and the ones you feel you've lost. I understand that you can't hold that young man's hand anymore. You can't see the smiles and hear the laughter of these people you've come to care about in the exact same way, but their essence is with you, even as they were before you physically met. But even this we need to take a look at. You're operating under the assumption that nothing can be salvaged. Have you even tried? Have you called? Have you written? Have you sent a text of explanation? You're wont to make tragic stories of situations without taking the time to consider that maybe these other players aren't reading things the way that you are? Could it be just as likely that the sense of finality you're experiencing is in your mind alone? I'd like to suggest that it could be so. I know at the moment your pride keeps you from entertaining the thought, but just be cognizant of the fact that it is you who have put this separation in place. It is you who blindly acted on your stories - and it is you who can investigate their veracity. I know the young man has been let go of in your mind, but what of the others? Yes, the young man was the catalyst for bringing this group of people in to your experience, but the bonds you made were between you and them, and had nothing to do with him. It was your willingness to receive them and it was your willingness to give of yourself that allowed these friendships to be formed. And this brings me to my next point: you, my precious one, were willing to receive them. You were willing to be yourself, to show up, to rendezvous with life. You repeatedly made the conscious decision, again and again, over this last year to feel your fear and do it anyway. Over and over you were willing to cast aside the notion of who you'd practiced yourself to be, and attempted - successfully! - to define yourself in a new way. Do you get that? Are you able to see the miraculousness of the work you've been up to? Countless times you sat in the anxiety and let it burn. You sat in your fear and touched the Stillness of your True Self and saw that you were capable, safe, and very okay - and you went on with your fun. This is not a small thing, my friend. I don't want you looking at this one night where your mind got the best of you and allow it to color your impending future. I want you to look at the whole picture, your life story, and acknowledge the Grace that's been unfolding.

Things have changed, I acknowledge that. The dynamics you were living just a few short months ago are over now. All of the things you imagined, the outings, the people - as it stands in this moment, those just weren't meant to be. But since when does change have to be a bad thing? Since when do goodbyes take anything away from the Wholeness of Who You Really Are? It isn't, and they don't. Hear me when I say, there is not one aspect of your life experience that is out of order or that is unfolding in a way that is not to your utmost benefit - this, I promise. Not one speck of dust, not one beginning or ending of a relationship, life, or love - not one single happening in this Universe is taking place in a way or in a time that is not divinely ordained. It often takes a real openness and a stillness to recognize this fact...but it is a fact.

So, build these walls for now if they make you feel safe. Cry for the friends and relationships you feel you've irreparably damned. Because tears dry and all walls eventually come tumbling down. Just know that as you do these things, there is no real need to suffer and no real loss. Do it consciously. Don't identify with your character in this passing storyline - that is the only "mistake" you could ever make. That is what perpetuates this illusion of being lost and separate. For all of this is a passing dream, and you know this. It's the beautiful, mysterious Leela. Who You Really Are is the pristine, unchanging Awareness that lies beneath all phenomena.

Cherish this chapter in your life, praise these angels who shook you even further awake. If you use this experience as the teaching and reminder it was intended to be, then not one moment of this year, not one friendship that was known, was lived or made in vain. The clarity that was inspired, the love that was felt, the nudge towards further enlightenment will forever be with you. And let me tell you, the nice thing about goodbyes is that they allow you the opportunity to say "hello!" again - something you may just find yourself saying to these very same souls someday.

Oh,  my love, you are so very, very far from square one! The furthest thing from being alone! Your sweet innocence brings me tears of joy and laughter! And one day, much sooner than you think, you'll see the joke we've been playing on "each other"-

and you'll be laughing just as I am...

as I AM.

♥

love liberates

I was watching a special edition of "Oprah's Master Class" on OWN tonight and Maya Angelou spoke what, for me, was a very timely message. I love when I get to hear that woman speak. Her wisdom and words come out as poetry. And the calm certainty with which she speaks them is always a reassuring comfort.

What touched me this evening:

You see, Love liberates.

It doesn't bind. Love says,

I love you.

I love you if you're in China.

I love you if you're across town.

I love you if you're in Harlem.

I love you!

I would like to be near you.

I'd like to have your arms around me.

I'd like to hear your voice in my ear.

But that's not possible now.

So I love you. Go.

Love liberates. 

It doesn't just hold.

That's ego.

Love liberates.

- Maya Angelou

"Oprah's Master Class"

stray no more forever

I'll not stray from you again, I promise.

My infidelity is obvious with all the restlessness I've felt. The calm I've felt in your presence, lacking. I've routinely abandoned you, looking for something bigger, something brighter, something that doesn't demand of me what you do. Looking for shortcuts, I've "wasted" so much time, seduced by soulless candy for the mind - the cheap, easy thrill. In lieu of what is real.

I return, knowing you'll have me. You are forever, blessedly redeeming the fool. Kissing us whole.

For thousands of years, you've awoken those inspired to sit with you, to know who you are and to know what you know. I'm now at your feet, if you'll have me. I follow where you lead, and as always, it's magic.

Our time together in the dark, you're sweet to me. In the quiet, you illumine my breath. And how you make my limbs and torso shiver and shake, I see lights! Tremors of pleasure storm the spine. Oh my god, you make me laugh - and cry. But these are only icing, useless trinkets. All I need is you. All I need is the Lesson.

Morning and night, I visit you daily. Our dates, our rendevous, are nothing to be reminded of. Chores no more, they are makings of Love.

No longer the lover with the wandering eye, I'll not stray from you again, I promise. You light the way. Together, we're going Home.

Teach me, Love! Teach!

freedom in structure

I love knowing that there's not a goddamn thing I have to be or do in this world. What freedom! How refreshing!

It's been seven weeks since my classes began, the semester just about halfway over. And it took up 'til this week - I'm surprised it held out so long - What is this? Progress? - for me to have my first genuine freak-out. That moment that comes where I begin to doubt myself, where I begin to wonder what the hell I'm doing. I curse myself and wonder why I'm wasting my time and energy. I wonder what the hell's the point.

It's a phenomenon that occurs once I've elected a course of action. It's been this way for as long as I can remember. Whether it's a job, a person, a social-something. An inner storm arises and rages. One of fear, obligation, enslavement. Voices of ineptitude rise up. The notion that there's no going back. The idea that I've made the wrong decision. The anxiety is paralyzing, and I most always project these things on to the situation and the people involved until I scare myself so much - and in such a variety of ways - that I quit and run away. These life decisions that I make call forth one venomous and gnarly mind-stream accustomed to attacking itself.

On top of my school work, I recently started the Power 90 program again - which takes some dedication to working out every day, and staying conscious of what I eat. And with all of this, I find myself following a routine of sorts that for the past few days, began to feel a little jail-like. The egoic chatter, "But I don't WANT to do this. I CAN'T do that. I DON'T KNOW HOW to do this." It's very loud. Very annoying. Very dream-defying. And very un-true.

As I laid on the floor in frustration, the mind trying to come up with a myriad of new escape routes, I was able to sink down in to Presence and find shelter there.

This shelter I find sometimes, this Presence, it tells me so many things. Always blessed with reminders, I'm given so much. I'm reminded that life is meant to be fun and full and rich, nothing to be endured, nothing to dread or want to flee from. That I am free in any given moment to walk out the front door and never come back. That I am free to take these books and set them on fire if I want. That I'm free to stick in my mouth whatever sweet, fried, poisonous thing I choose, that it's my call. That my inner world is my domain, my own holy kingdom, and that if I'm experiencing anything short of straight-up bliss, it's up to me to straighten out - because not only do other people not have the power to change my experience, it's not their responsibility or, even less so, their desire. That truly, there is not a soul outside me that cares how I experience the days of my life as strongly or as sincerely as I do. That at some point in the future, who I think I am will be dead and gone, and these dramas that I concoct for myself will evaporate, gone forever, their insignificance apparent, none of it mattering much. This Presence, it encourages me to get real, and to ask myself: Why are you doing these things? Why, exactly, are you in school? Why, exactly, are you trying to get fit? Who are you trying to impress? Just what are you trying to accomplish? What experience, what emotions are you going after? This Presence, I like to call it God, suggests that any reason that feels stressful, any reason that has me feeling enslaved, is a clue - a bright, shiny, blessing of a clue that tells me it's not something that's sprung from my heart, it's something I'm doing based on fear and/or the perceptions of others. What moves me, what exhilarates me as I keep going, as I live these days - only that is true and worthy of my time. There are no have-to's in this world. It's never about anything or anyone else. To believe otherwise is a mistake. It's innocent, but confusion, still - which I'd be wise to remember the next time I start getting pissy with the circumstances before me.

As I answer these questions for myself, as I get real with what I'm doing, as I sit down to study, as I sweat my ass off working out, as I love the ones I love, it's clear to me that it's ALL because I want to. There's not one instance of my being coerced. Just imagine! I'm here because I want to be. And if the time should ever come when that's no longer true, I can always choose again. There are never any chains - I love knowing that! I do these things because they make sense right now. I do them because I'm the only one in charge, the only one able to save me, the only one that cares like I do, the only one that's listening, the only one capable of knowing my Joy or feeling my High. Knowing this, how could I ever see myself as anything less than free?

in times like these

Writing is always helpful in times like these. It's the actual posting of what I'm writing that I worry over. And a post like this in particular.

Silas's sister unexpectedly died last week. Her funeral was this morning. I've not been to many funerals in my day, thankfully, but I've gotta say, it was the most beautiful and inspiring one I've ever attended. I was fortunate enough to have met her a couple of months ago, so when I sat in the church and listened to all the kind, funny, and wonderful things her family and friends said about her, I had a very real sense of how true they were. She seemed like a very cool lady, and that is saying the very least.

I sat in the back row with my mother, and from across the field of heads and shoulders between us, I could see Silas with his non-mournful, life-revering pink sweater up front. I kept my eyes on him much of the time, willing him to turn around so he'd know I was there. I wanted to be up there beside him, holding his hand. As he went up to speak about his sister, I wanted to whisper in his ear that he would do great and that I loved him. But instead I just listened to the stories. I closed my eyes and listened to the songs and prayers, and stifled my tears, lips quivering.

At the cemetery - the kind I hope to be laid to rest in some day; lots of trees and little ponds - I stood with Silas and his friends as the casket was lowered in to the ground, and as we got to pet the little dove before Silas released it, and the others as they followed to the sky. It was lovely. The whole thing. Silas and his brother did a great job of making the funeral a celebration of her life, and of keeping the focus on the quality of it, the way she unabashedly lived it, not the untimeliness of how it ended. They did a great job of honoring her and I'm so glad I got to be there.

For days now, I've been in a funk, feeling disconnected, out of place, lonely - wanting to cry, but not. I squelched them at the church, I squelched them at the cemetery - so as soon as I got home and had the chance, I took Grams's car up to the park so I could let the tears out. I couldn't keep them anymore. I sat in the car and screamed and cried and had many words with the Creator. And as I left there I did feel better. But still, tonight, I walk around the house feeling like I could start crying again at the slightest provocation. The tears are right beneath the surface, I can feel them. It feels like anything, at any moment, could nick me in the most innocuous of ways, and I'll be bawling again.

It's a little embarrassing to admit how self-centered I am. Instead of focusing on Silas and his loss, I'm focusing on my loss of Silas. I'm thinking of how he doesn't seem to need or want me around anymore. I'm thinking that I should have been there with him today, beside him every step of the way, not like some random mourner sitting in the back row. I'm thinking that I lost him and it's all my fault. I'm thinking how terribly I've let him down. And then after thinking all of that, I think what a selfish bitch I am for thinking these things at all. How dare I be sad at a time like this! My loss was self-imposed, after all. His wasn't.

So what do you do? What do you do in times like these? These are questions I asked God in the parking lot today. I promised that I'd listen. And these are the answers that I've begun to hear this evening:

You keep crying until you don't need to anymore. You sit down and write. You listen to your favorite music and you sing, or close your eyes and sleep. You count your many, many blessings. You take one breath at a time, one moment at a time. You remember that you always make it from here to there - you always have, you always will. You love from afar, if need be, and know that Love is not capable of being diminished. You act with selfishness or fear until it takes its leave of you - and you forgive yourself and let yourself off the hook when you realize that it has. You remember that there is not one right way of doing things, and that you're always doing the best you can - even when you're "not." You remember that you are loved and never alone, even if it sometimes feels that way. And yes, until you don't need to anymore - and that time will come - you cry.