« February 2006 | Main | April 2006 »

March 31, 2006


My left thumb was bleeding when I woke up.
Before, I was already afraid I was losing that magic.
But I was more distant now, outside that self; to the part where you just follow.

Just the drive up the coast and through the hills was healing. There were horses. In a rare frame of mind where I wasn't afraid of anything---not even my boss; I wasn't at work. Soon after I got there, Dorrine arrived and we waited together. My only clue to why she was there was that I couldn't tell why she was there---she wasn't quite in her thing. Her words and her actions seemed to arise from her periphery. She kept her shoes on; she had forgotten her money but then found it. The house was beautiful and full and I played with the crazy little dog while I waited.

The nght before, I had flipped out again. Ashley was either a trigger or the last human before I locked the door and was by myself. Astrid had left papers with the contact for the Maori healers who were in town, so I called and left a message, not knowing if anything would come of it. But they called me as I drove home, as I was wondering what to do with myself. The woman told me there was a cancellation and I could have an appointment the next day. I was already noticing the grace as she asked if I was okay and I said "yes". Then, she seemed to have changed the subject. She was talking about the eclipse, "you know, the sun disapears and it gets dark...but it comes back again. It always does", even her tone had shifted, as though we had been casually discussing the mechanics of this all along. But then she made her segue: "that is to say, anything that happens right now--this work, whatever--will be experienced more intensely"--[a therapeudic disclaimer]--"so, just be aware of that".

I've noticed that at the four corners of the year I stay at Cid's with Boris (the Buddha cat). I remember how intense solstice was--a week of steady-state quazi-awareness; space travel and passing out--both from [panic] and bad gin. I got to her house and started watching TV through the static; a show on integral health care. It was within the clinical scope--it included both alopathy and "complimentary"--it was on KCET. I wasn't feeling better, but I was feeling surrendered. In my mind was the thing Carolyn Myss put words to: about how you just say the prayer and then know that everything---everything---that happens after that is the answer. I had a felt sense both that the immediate, "let me be okay" prayer and prayers made long ago--commitment, vows, to what I'd become--were being answered. The beautiful woman on the screen--siver hair and clear eyes--talked about how healng is a collaboration with the healer inside the person. The person acting as the healer, their job is to see that healer in the client---when they can't see it themself.

"island style", I thought. Music played, dogs barked and cell phones range. different people moved in and out of the room. Once face down, only getting to guess who was joining. The whole group, alternately chanting and laughing--talking about the same visions: the casual spiritual world. White orbs and dogs rushed through. You don't have to act "attuned" when you just simply are. Ata talked a lot with Dorrine. She asked her if she was a Capricorne--that was my guess too--but Dorrine said "no; Cancer" in a voice unexpectedly loud. ( and I thought..."yeah? what's you're rising?") and Ata said, "uu shell" in a distinct brand of pidgeon and mentioned that, for Cancers, this cycle concerns issues around the mouth, "does this mean anything to you?" "No" said Dorrine, again, a voice too hard, sounding like it came only from her mouth and not any deeper. I laughed. then she said (even more high nasal) "but maybe I'll get it later".
They didn't really talk to me and barely even talked about me. I was feeling lovely like air, dried up and swirled from the first sun in days. I felt like skin evaporated after a long cry; a salty crystal on dry tide pools. But I still knew I was faded, so I didn't feel ignored. I knew they were relating to something deeper in me than this temporary state. I heard a few words in a different language that seemed true for me. And a beautiful song. i layed still through the deep work to the sound of Dorrine's conversations--I was happy that someone was willing to push hard enough to get through me, into me. The only time I screamed was when "Son" had his elbow in my stomach and I felt the stickiness between the organs tear open and my spine adjust from pressure from the front. I learned how held my hipflexors are and I had no idea what they did to my shouler. I have an interesting cloud in my shoulder. I can't see in it like I can see other parts. Its not because I don't know the anatomy and can't visualize. It's like there is something there that remains unknown.

We were the only appointments that morning because they were going to be on KPFK. I sat on the porch with Dr. Matt as I put on my boots and I told him to tell Lisa I love her. He laughed and said he would. I listen to that show almost everyday. I stoped by the beach to touch the water and the sand. On the show they talked about a lot of good things. Secretly, I listened for anything that applied to me and also for anything I could tell to others. Ata at one point talked about the smell of people: how a woman who has been raped has a specific smell, or an abused child---but that you can only smell these things because you know what to do about them--even if you don't "think" you know". It made me think of the information we are given--the pain I feel and the things greg sees. Its kind of like---"You will never be handed more than you can take"---we see, smell, hear these things because we can do something. It's not static distraction. And people who don't see, it's becuase...for whatever reason...in that moment, they wouldn't know what to do.

And then I heard it--the word I had heard earlier that had sounded true. The word for mental affliction in their language. Ata said that it literally translates to mean "the dark eclipsing the light" but then continued, almost interrupting herself, "---but it's not permanent". She talked about how we treqt things with drugs as though they are steady-states, but really, anything, everything; we are just moving through. She talked about relating to the part of a person that always is light. a broken bone. an infertile family, the loss of light. the sun comes back, it always does.

I was feeling that the sun had returned. I went to yoga. By the end, again, the sun had fallen behind a cloud. I gave all reasons, yoga malaise, the falling in and out of the spirit world in large chunks. Ashley seemed to be dressed back in street clothes before the class even ended, and for some reason this bothered me. Maybe I wanted someone to be with me. But anyways, it wasn't, so I cried. Not as hard as before, but even more frustrated now.
The panic I have, the depression, the suicidal ideation; I really try to pay them no mind. I relate them to chronic injury---the took, what, almost 20 years to create, then the injury happens, we notice it and want it gone right then. I try to remeber we dont get to pick the timeline. It wont take 20 years to undo, because I am consciously trying, but still, it keeps washing out whether I decide I'm done or not. So, as much as I can, I pay them no mind... but, honestly, I get afraid. I know that even the fear is drama, though, it doesn't really matter what happens to me in a large scope. But from my own end of things, there are things I need to get done. And I know if I can get through these things myself, I might make some hope for others.

I went by Cid's and then to my appartment. Almost to my apartment, I started listening to a Ram Dass tape. I heard exactly where I was getting caught and, again, I felt my tears dry as I got a clue of the work to be done. Greg and Bryan were there printing pictures of Greg. Someone had a gun magazine and a business magazine (same difference) porno for alll the violece I felt. but more and more and more, I felt it slip away. Even when it seems to be, That is not me.
Yoga: the continuous process of pulling one's head out one's ass.
What did it this time? All of these things, I'm sure. Culminating in Dharma class where I re-established the belief that I am not here for me. This work I do, it is not for me; and the choice to be here is not about whether it feels good to me. And ( in terms of dharma class) maybe these challenges mean that I was a very bad roach in my last life (hehe) they also mean that I am willing and ready, and the wounds I see in myself, in others, in the world, I have what it takes to help heal them.

March 28, 2006


The sign in thing wouldn't let me in the first 3 times I tried. Maybe it's because I shouldn't write this, but it let me on, so I will. Feel special reading this if you see it...probably I'll erase it tomorrow.

Hanuman says I'm dramatic--though maybe not as dramatic as the rest--he also calls me Lack-o-swara. Which I know I deserve. Dina says its always gonna be hard, and that, probably, its always going to hurt. And, everyone knows, this is a lonely path.

Monkey and beefy went out again. I'm watching the melancholy rain and thinking I just don't have it in me to try right now. So I slack on what I can, didn't make any of the phone calls I should have. But it seems the only way for me to be around people if for me to be working hard. I'm noticing, anyone I appreciate, I try to find a way to serve. That in itself isn't bad. But I see that the only way I can relax is alone, if at all. The rain makes me just want to sit with someone. Talk with someone. about nothing important.
Maybe I'm working out some modal shame. Or, certianly I am; I don't know what. I was reading an idea that we have this sort of existential shame built into the human soul---it comes from the part of us that knows we could be infinity and won't be pleased until we are. In that sense, then, is it guilt? not of doing, but of not doing---all we can?
Maybe its just that my friends work hard also. Harmonie and I went for tea the other night for my birthday; this is too rare. We work so hard: out of shame? out of necessity? out of seeing the need and wanting things to be better for everyone now? out of....
I know my friends are at the brink of something.
I'm also around a lot of people who are high resonance, but who are steady---they hold a place as a marker that others move past. But that is different. We are reaching...maybe because we are close to something. Maybe because we sometimes get a glimpse. Maybe the shame is more because a last bit needed is so heavy. the last bit to the next level. Born into a really good life but also one that puts in my face both its terrors and its princesses. Being asked to reconcile. "the atman project" you feel the gravity, you feel the disillusionment of being tossed back.
Today, I named it "yoga malaise": the feeling of getting lost and then finding your way back disillusioned. I have lost-my-self before and sometimes had the opposite result--come back feeling integrated and elated. But I guess both are parts. Or maybe today I just forgot to stay protected....I wanted too bad to let my guard down, and maybe it wasn't safe.
So when I said to beffy, (mad on the phone) "someday I will have friends!" this is not to negate the ones I have and the way I have them now. Not to disregard the work I do. And, ok, maybe it is lack-o-swara talking. But it is also a genuine prayer that someday soon it will feel better. And I keep remembering when it does and when it has. I remember other yoga classes---one when I could have come back to a cold hard world, where instead, after, the teacher and I hugged. Okay that sounds stupid, but man, I'll remember that and keep going even if it never feels like that again. Even if it always does hurt. Even if I always feel I'm missing a mark and trying alone; its okay.
But for now I only dream to dream. Asking that I might dream something (contrary to furburger, I dream once a month at best), anything. But actually, honestly, when I go to sleep I ask to go where I'm needed (okay, and sometimes I ask to go to specific people). Maybe I don't see dreams because I'm busy in other people's dreams. Maybe I do have work to do. Maybe I am somewhere loving them. It feels better to me to write that. I am honored when I get to hold someone else up. When I get wrapped up in the bullshit, that's when I feel bad. Again, when I am doing what I need to, alone has its purpose.
But sometimes I hold space for this agenda. The one that wants more. That sees things and wants what's there. Maybe the Lack-o-swara part is the passive voice (this used to drive Marisa mad). that I say "I want" and I can justify that...but okay fine: it WILL be okay, it WILL feel better, it IS okay and it IS better, and it WILL be better still. (not just for me, but for eveyone.)

March 21, 2006

running on Empty

If you are going to try to do anything, try to be empty.
If you are going to practice anything, practice being right here now.
If you feel you are dying, go ahead and keep dying--that's not you.
Surrender again and again.

I warn you, this will meander.
(and it may sound super crazy.)

Last night or this morning, at 2 am, I almost ran out of gas. Or rather, I did and it stalled, but I managed to start it again.
This has been happening far too often. I remeber my dad used to do it all the time (as in, walking to the gas station as often as driving there), the kind of running so hard in a way that just propetuates more running...or walking, as it were, with a gas can.
And my car is also full of clutter. I think the car mess thing made me first notice that we are not just body/minds in this modern culture, but body/mind/cars (or other transportation or lack there of). In this moment, eveidently, full of the wrong stuff, empty of the necessary. Or maybe that's just what I think. But-- either way -- I would like to think--with a sense of purpose; and no doubt about what I'm serving even when I don't know the details.

Yesterday I had one of thoes days when my head was glowing in that special way that says, "come up to me and tell me your life story!". This is better than when it glows in the way that says, "come up to me and tell me what you think my life story is" . I used to have thoes a lot; I've come to not mind either. I know both are when I'm not sheilding--totally present in a way that lets people use me as a mirror. I've learned what these events feel like and so I shift to observer--seeing everything in front of me as their process, and making it my job first to listen. I think about what my contract with this person is in this moment. Why did they come to me? How do I be with them in a good way?
I think the difference between the two states is the way I got there: when I am present because I am raw; they take their shot: they reveal themself by talking about me. When I am present out of hope and strength and joy...I feel myself attracting the part of them that wants to be better. I notice (often after the fact) that I was looking at their possibility; not distracted or afraid of what they were showing me at that moment. Maybe that's why they feel okay showing me. I'm glad to be able to give them that. I think the trick is to keep their process outside of me. It really seems there are so many layers to Empty.

Monday night, I got a session from Dina. Many fabulous things happened; because of which or inspite of which, I ended up in a ball: my front side disappearing into my back--it took me fifteen minutes to look her in the eye afterwards. Barely in control, I left and my first thoughts were of vicodin and liquor, but lately I've been hearing my strenght against more odds and opted for Ram Dass tapes and go to bed.
She had talked to Michael for me---the Archangel--he is the great clearer of space. (Last night I was googleing him and found that some think that Jesus was an incarnation of Michael) She said he said he was willing to be with me and help me. He would help me clear my space and the space of others. So, as I fell asleep, I talked to him. He was there with a light-being I already know. And I felt that his light, his fire, was so hot that anything would burn up.
I woke many times to a battle--as though I would wake up in time to do whatever I semi-conciously needed to do. There were dark heavy things that I wasn't afraid of--both becuase I knew they wern't mine and because I felt like the battle itself wasn't even personal. At the most intense point, I heard Boris---the Buddha cat--meowing. I figured at least one of these things was him. But when I woke up in the morning, both doors were still closed and he was still in his chair.

So, yesterday (tuesday), when a subtle scizophrenic came up to me (I say subtle because I did not pick up the clues immediately), I let her talk and I observed everything I was getting of her. I saw the tipping-point-sort moment she was in (different that most scizophrenics you meet who have a sort of steady volitile state). I said and did what I thought I needed to do--what I needed to say for her and what a needed to do in terms of boundaries and containment (physically and energetically). But the whole exchange was different. Michael was next to me--between us--and whatever was going on for her was burning up in my new atmosphere. I could do what I needed to do, but not as a sacrifice.

Dina said that are emotion seem to snowball because energy wants to join like energy. That when we are joyful and hopeful, like energies will be around us. And when we are hopeless; sad, hopeless energies will join us and they will start using our bodies to process. Not that I ever get taken over, I know I do take things on. I process things for people who around me who can't process them themselves... and maybe even energy that doesn't have a body to process through.
Ultimately, I think that the same people could walk up to you for different reasons. What I mean by that is, in one state, they will come to you to join you, to drag you down and in another they will come to you so that you can raise them up. The dark part attracted to the dark, or, their possibility attracted to possibility. Being a light that light can join and get lighter--brighter.

Today, Wednesday (I told you it would meander). A bit tired and overwhelmed, a bit confused but still feeling sure. I did manage to get to the gas station. I did manage to do the project for Andrea this morning that I never thought I would finish. I got a slightly dirty e-mail and that made me very happy. Wishing for real connection to each person who I see in passing. Some kind of empty: Somewhere between possibility and raw. Watching the chick in the other room cycle hard and apply her subconcious to everyone. Knowing what I have to do, but no clue what I want to do next. Sitting here, like the buddah-cat in the chair, holding space for it all.

March 16, 2006

the moon: she laughs again

They say that Joy is a woman, and you must seize her.
They say that, to have Joy, you must wake early before the world has formed. and then be Joy as God creates the world in your image.
They also say that to have Joy is not a gift, it's a commandment. A call to conciousness; a recognition of the joy that already Is.

But I keep forgetting.

and the moon:
she laughs again.

The spell is on us again. In our minds we see the cycles; but our hearts are still in the center. Far outside—our skin, our bodies, our families, our worlds—she sits and laughs at the circle she has spun. She knows that, when we have no where else to look, we will start looking up.

She is beautiful. And she wants to be seen.

She also knows that God is even more in the tradjedies only because we remember to look for Her. And, Leela, she knows that this is how we will know Joy: We feel and look until we can't look anymore. Together, they will laugh untill we stop looking and see.

And then, we will laugh with them.

But for now, I have found myself crying. The end of frustration--that it all could crack open. Revealing a deeper Joy than could ever have been felt before knowing its void. (again.) And I pray: dear Jesus (Kirshna, Buddha, Moses) please help me pull my head out my ass. Because I know I am distracted.

they laugh as our worlds disappear,
and they laugh as new ones come.
Shinning and laughing. There She is.
She is beautiful, Take Her.

and, actually, it is us moving Her. Our actions creating these cycles---our bodies--this mass that She circles. And as She looks to us, She pulls on us. Locked in the circle we have spun; tossing back to us our own reflection.

Our lover, our torment; our daughter, our mother.

And I look to you, mothers, to see myself: right now, where I come from, where I'm going. And we have all been eachother's mother a million times before. We are our own, and everyone's, origin.

That is only to say that it's okay we need eachother. sometimes, we need to be seen by ourself from another location. by another able to see through their self enough to reflect back you. And maybe we have been told to only look in--that we don't need anything from outside at all. Or, maybe we have been told to only look out--and that we can't know. But sometimes, oftentimes, it is the case that Grace moves through people. Being the channel in the moment that makes all the difference in a feedback loop where it doesn't matter anymore the direction, just that the Grace moves through.
But you have to be there enough to see.

And, we are all being pulled.
I don't know what She feels, but from here.
I see Her shinning.

I was reminding someone today to remember that when they are suffering, the reason to go through it is to get to something else---not to stay in the suffering of the past or create more. And that if we ever think that we see a reason that things are as they are that is anything other than Joy, that is still the distraction.
That, if we were ever to see the true nature of things, it would only be pure Joy.

I asked her if any of this sounded right to her, and she said:

"yes. I know it.
But I keep forgeting.
and I keep forgeting,
and I keep forgeting,
and I keep forgeting."

I think that forgeting is kind-of part of the deal.
and each time,
the moon:
she laughs again.

March 08, 2006

Ouch...but now i kind of get it

A pain induced bad mood several days long. Yesterday, only making it through by the grace of a quarter xanax at the bottom of my bag. Today, subconciously, maybe too confused at the source of this pain and frustration--start finding reasons outside myself but yet that have to do with my self; things that happen, have happened TO ME. Today, I start to lash out. Having decided that everybody dislikes me, making sure to dislike them back. Protection...right? Pre-emptive.

And by now I should know whats really going on once I find I can't walk the streets of Santa Monica without feeling torn apart. A superficial layer of social-comentary-anger of how things should-be-different, sitting delicately on top of what I'm really feeling which is more vast only in the sense that its totally specific to each person I walk by.
And there is a sense in which they are just beautiful animals to me. And archetypes, or characatures, or, sometimes, impressionistic figures. And I find that to soften the back of my skull I must soften my eyes and then all this non-sensical shit rushes in. And I see that the unchecked-compassion for the whole is only overwhelming because it is made up of so many parts. And social-comentary-anger might be the only thing that could keep you from zooming in on somethig that would be too much to see.
And there is another anger, a mini rage rushes in---for the spiritual quest, which seems to be the "business" I'm in. And I appease myself with the thought that I don't have to go to school to study yoga because I am sick of the competition in masturbation...because---look at the results.
But I tell my students that we have to keep the image of what we envision alive--sustain the possibility--against all proof that it isn't true. And surely this also applies to all these shadows disguised as light. And, even as I walk by these pictures of people---me defining them in this moment by this moment; I don't want to be defined as this snap shot. Some times I think that this pain is about loneliness; about just wanting to be seen, heard and touched only in a way that lets me know that I am.
Oh, so the pain is upper back and and mostly neck. Chest closing stuff on the upper back and chest, but as for the neck: psychic receptor for one. Also, Jordan says its where tension goes when teh nervous system is overwhelmed. Speaking of overwhelmed nervous system, I learned the other day that autism is considered a vatta disorder. Makes sense that I would move from that to anxiety (more air) as I moved to deal more in the world. So I had taken this whole situation to be anxiety and fear. I forgot about the water. Until tonight-- I sweat for the first time in a long time.
Round three: third day in a row taking Anaswara's class. First two classes spent in savasana. Determined to win this time (and by that I think I mean come out feeling better and not worse), I covered myself with china gel. And I realized: it seems that so long as the muscles are holding, you can't really know what they are holding...its almost as thought they have to let go first. And (by the grace of china gel) they at least kkind-of did. And as I felt my neck relax, even for a moment, I noticed how much I was experiencing.
I was describing to Greg my interepretation of the vatta descriptions of autism (since we have autistic students). And how its interesting to see how this manifests in the muscles. Often (especially the back of the body, neck hamstrings) so tight. As thought the earth of the body is trying contain the crazy air. In the instants my neck was soft, I noticed that this was not air, this was water. Both in the sese of receptivity and of fluidity. I was both flowing alkl over the room, and not willing to flow at all. I had no boudaries... I was right inside everybodies stuff. I was smelling the man next to me, and some part of me was reading his whole life. And another part of me was just not wanting to smell his life at all. And there was some process going on all over that room.
I notice that I feel this way when I am very sesative--both personally, feeling unsupported (mostly--not in school and disapearing teachersss) and non-personally, getting a lot of information. And the neck is like blocking the reception. As though I'm not willing to listen. The last two days, in the ceter of it, I had started asking "for what I was hurting" but today, I realized that at some level I know...and that maybe its not so important that I get to congnatively know, right now. So today I just started asking to be willing. To not block it. To see. I remembered the bits of claiming the sovreignty of my vessel (that I can choose when), but I realized how important it is to me to be working in ways that let me listen and respond.
I really do mean to do something. And I really do believe that if I was doing what I need to do, I would be in flow and not pain. Dina said I need to be trainined, and I want that more than anything. But then she disappeared again. Im sure it is all timing. And tonight I remembered to remember what I had forgoton. I guess its silly to what more teachers when you forget what the ones you've had have told you. Maybe that will be when---when I stop for getting. And when I remember to keep asking against all evidence otherwise. I want to see more. I want to feel more with out being torn apart. And I know there is a reason.