Thursday, December 6, 2018

Eating your tail

You are noble
you are kind
you are sweet
you are wise.

You are caring
you are deep
you are understanding
you are all of these beautiful things.

No matter your nobility
your kindness
your wisdom
your sweetness

No matter your care
your depth
your understanding
the poison will slowly seep through your scales
and feed you your own tail.

Nobility, kindness, wisdom, and sweetness,
care, depth, and understanding -
these things will no longer suit your character
and you'll have no choice
but to try on their antonyms for size.

Then your skin will shed like a decaying garb
revealing all of these beautiful traits anew
this pattern will repeat once, twice, forever
until you have shed your deepest layer.

Your truest form will find liberation,
and become the symbol
you had suffered through time
of the snake that eats its own tail.



Wednesday, November 28, 2018

Given and Taken

How can we ask for what we want,
Without taking from someone?
How much suggestion,
is too much suggestion?
Would two human beings ever
fall into something together
at exactly the same time,
with exactly the same depth?

Friday, November 23, 2018

A description of my new mural, "Time"

A philosophical (and perhaps too lengthy) description of "Time", or "Lady Bell", on the Bell Apartments


'


At first, 
you think you're creating this piece, 
that you have all of the reasons, 
all of the metaphors created, 
you have all of the tools 
in your own pocket 
to bring this concept to life.

In the end,  you find that
a piece of art has its own things to say. 
It knows more than you, 
and knows to incorporate what you never thought to. 
Now that it exists in the physical realm,
it will dance with the shadows
and flirt with the sunlight.
It will morph and accept its meaning
from every person's sight.
It will accept your projection,
and will not be moved by your assumption.

Originally, I wanted an image that personified the building, The Bell Apartments. This building was erected in 1912, and renovated in the 40's. The developer taking on the feat of renovation after a recent fire is bringing in elements of both eras. One floor reminiscent of the 1900s, the other 1940s. She arose in my thoughts, a proud, wise lady, standing tall and strong, looking at us from up high. She may have been incarnated in human form once, in the early 1900s, with her late-Victorian style attire. Now, she is a ghost - she does not exist (she never really did, but can we argue that the past was ever as we imagine it to be?) I wanted her to take the memory of time along with her, using symbols we understand. When we see a book, when we see a timepiece or hear the bells ringing, we are reminded of where we are right now and where we might have been in the past. We may think of where we're going, and why we're headed there. The decisions we've made, and are continually choosing to make. As for the pattern behind her, I was inspired by the floor tile used in the building itself, specifically chosen to have that 40's elegance and style. It ended up reminding me of a starry sky. 

This concept grew beyond my own original idea, and as I painted her she told me what to do. She told me what she needed, what the piece itself needed in order to conjure a sense of emotion around time. It became deeper than this, the building showing me its curves and cracks and needing a certain kind of attention to details I did not foresee going in. The beautiful tree, sitting quiet and unassuming beside the building, cast shadows on her that also could not be ignored : now I was dealing with more than a painting on a building. I was handling light, shadow, curve, direction, weather, perspective, height. The tree would also end up playing in with the concept of time; the seasons, the change in the shadows as it loses its leaves and sways in the breeze. 

I was also blessed by community involvement: Tonny's idea of her watch displaying the time the building was erected, 19:12. David, the Jungian Psychiatrist next door, giving me a book on Time which became the title of the book she holds. Jordan's father (Jordan Milne, the developer of the building) guiding me towards illustrating the flower in her jacket as a poppy to depict wartime. 

In short, Lady Bell is a depiction of Time. 

a bell
a book
a watch
a poppy
details, seen
on her gloves,
stripes on her blazer,
the pearls around her neck.





Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Generationally Passed-Down

Could it be that the trauma you have held on to your whole life has actually been handed down to you generationally? Could it be that you are carrying someone else's burdens, heartaches, hurts, confusions, illusions? Where does trauma come from, and how do we begin to hold it in the first place?

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Luck?


“Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity." - Seneca

Sunday, September 30, 2018

Fall

New season. New chapter. New scatterings about the ground, the fallen leaves like dusted parts of my soul, there to be noticed, observed, thought upon - to watch fade away in death - the end bringing forth rebirth. I shall be born again in this season, and prepare to die again come the next.

Monday, July 30, 2018

The supporting role


Just because I'm on my own,
As we surely all are,
Does not mean I am acting alone.
There are many powers at play,
And I am ready to join in the fun.
The entirety of the cosmos -
All of infinity! -
Transpires to give me what I need
(Which is not to say,
always what I want).
I shall support this universe of mine,
Speak the lines and improvise,
Look to her as my director,
on this large cosmic stage called life.


Astromystephysiologicality!

Friday, July 27, 2018

I am the Third Person

When I see myself in third person,
I am pretty certain you’re that person.
Its like first, but not -
I see myself while
Feeling your eyes on me;
My eyes on myself.
You on me is me on myself,
I guess.
And the funny thing is,
It’s all me -
From beginning to end!
There might as well
Be no trace of you, with me, at all.

I guess myself in third person
Is first afterall.



---
Others being reflections to see ourselves ... but choosing who to (well, sometimes choosing is impossible, we just must) see ourselves through is important I'd say.


Friday, July 13, 2018

The Way of the Day

The day could go whatever which way.
The beginning shows direction...
Shows the days appreciation.

What shall we do today?
Today. To. Day.
This day.


--


"Not til we are lost, in other words, not until we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations." - Henry David Thoreau

Thursday, July 12, 2018

Pianiste

Imagine, maintenant : un piano.
Les touches ont un début.
Et les touches ont une fin.
Toi, tu sais qu'il y en a quatre-vingt-huit, là-dessus personne peut te rouler.
Elles sont pas infinies, elles. ...
Mais toi, tu es infini, et sur ces touches, la musique que tu peux jouer elle est infinie.
Elles, elles sont quatre-vingt-huit.
Toi, tu es infini.
Voilà ce qui me plaît.
Ca, c'est quelque chose qu'on peut vivre. Mais si je monte sur cette passerelle et que devant moi se déroule un clavier de millions de touche, des millions, des millions et des milliards de touches, qui ne finissent jamais, et ce clavier-là, il est infini/
Et si ce clavier est infini, alors ...
Sur ce clavier-là, il n'y a aucune musique que tu puisses jouer.
Tu n'es pas assis sur le bon tabouret : ce piano-là, c'est Dieu qui y joue...

Nom d'un chien, mais tu les as seulement vues, ces rues ?
Rien qu'en rues, il y en avait des milliers, comment vous faites là-bas pour en choisir une ...
Pour choisir une femme ...
Une maison, une terre qui soit la vôtre, un paysage à regarder, une manière de mourir...
Tout ce monde, là...
Ce monde collé à toi, et tu ne sais même pas où il finit.
Jusqu'où il y en a...
Vous n'avez jamais peur, vous, d'exploser, rien que d'y penser, à toute cette énormité, rien que d'y penser ?
D'y vivre...

Moi, j'y suis né, sur ce bateau.
Et le monde y passait, mais par deux mille personnes à la fois.
Et des désirs, il y en avait aussi, mais pas plus que ce qui pouvait tenir entre la proue et la poupe.
Tu jouais ton bonheur, sur un clavier qui n'était pas infini.
C'est ça que j'ai appris, moi.
La terre, c'est un bateau trop grand pour moi. C'est un trop long voyage.
Une femme trop belle.
Un parfum trop fort.
Une musique que je ne sais pas jouer.
Pardonnez-moi.
Mais je ne descendrai pas.



Pianiste de Alessandro Baricco

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

A reminder from the past

58 years ago - Seth Godin

The world was a twitch away from total nuclear destruction. White bread was a health food. Diabetes and obesity were relatively rare. The newspaper was the way most people heard about the news. We thought things were moving very fast, frighteningly fast. Women rarely worked outside the home, and the Rev. King was a relatively unknown preacher. No one owned a computer. The number of books published every year was quite small, as was the local bookstore. It was almost impossible to spend more than 45 minutes a day keeping up with current events. It was against the law for blacks and whites to marry in Virginia, and for gay couples to marry just about anywhere. Apartheid was mostly unremarked upon in the US. UPS never came to your house. A long-distance phone call was a big deal.

Air conditioning was rare, bottled water hadn’t been invented yet, there were no billionaires, there were three or four channels of TV, movies were only shown in movie theaters, most dangerous diseases would certainly kill you. The air and water were clean, but we were working overtime to make them dirty. Congress wasn’t a version of pro wrestling. Milk came in only one formulation (whole), you probably worked at the same company for a very long time and relatively few people went to college.

And 58 years from now, when, actuarially, most of us will still be around, what will things be like then? Slower? Apparently more stable? Based on skills we have today?

There is no normal. Simply the relentless cycle of change.

Today’s as good a day as any to dedicate your birthday to helping someone in more dire straits than most of us can even imagine. Thanks to you, there are thousands (thousands!) of people who are alive today, alive and healthy, because you, the readers of this blog, showed up for them.

There is no normal, but we can always work to make things better.

Tuesday, July 3, 2018

The rhythm of time and space

As I grow older, I hear my body speak more loudly. It tells me what it needs. Lately, it's about rhythm. About taking time for myself. About knowing my boundaries and limitations physically and mentally, where to put my energy so that I can come back to myself quickly when depleted. The ebbs and flows of energy are becoming more apparent; I can see them coming from farther away.

I have always had a fear of missing out. FOMO has been a reality for me. I suppose I never thought I would live this long; when I was a teenager I couldn't see past my twenties. So, everything was urgent. Do it now, or do it never. As I am gifted day after day I realize there is so much time to get it all accomplished, to do all the things. I can afford to miss out on what seems to be the most important thing in the world.

Don't get me wrong.
I know death is near.
It is so much more near than we like to think - if at all.

Perhaps the greatest gift I can give myself through this time in life is not to rush through it, not to be everywhere at once. Where I am now is sufficient, it is even the best, because wherever I am right now is where I'm supposed to be. I am learning to stop wishing I was elsewhere. Learning that there is no other time or place but the here and now. Not in a fluffy spiritual way; in a REAL way. In a way that yes, if I have my two feet planted firmly on this ground where I stand, this must be the best place. It must be, for I make it the best place. In the end, it does not matter where I stood, but that I stood firmly, strongly, and with full dignity. Knowing I deserve to be here, to take up this space and time. And if there are a few things I didn't do, a few places I didn't go, I will not think back on these things that did not exist. Rather, I will look back on where I was and what I did do, looking for the moments I most felt happiness and love.

I have gone through heavy waves these past few weeks. A lot of intensity all around, even the quiet being intense. I am now needing to slow right down and stay put, for I've exhausted my heart and mind to a point which makes me lose connection to the outside world. I have caved in because I put too much load on. I am learning. Taking notes. Listening. Summer time is exciting, invigorating and stimulating, but I overdo it with my child's mind thinking it will not last or will never come again. Rather, I shall remind myself that this moment will never happen again. This will be - is - a full life.

Thursday, May 17, 2018

Time spending YOU.

THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN TIME AND MONEY


You can't save up time. You can't refuse to spend it. You can't set it aside.

Either you're spending your time.

Or your time is spending you.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

What it's about



People say that what we're seeking is a meaning for life. I don't think that's what we're really seeking. I Think that what we're really looking for is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances within our innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive. That's what it's all finally about. 

- Joseph Campbell

"Easier said than done." But at least you said it. It's a mistake to hesitate on the saying part. Because if you don't say it, it's unlikely to get done. Dreams, goals and projects don't require a likelihood of success merely to be discussed.

- Seth Godin

Saturday, April 14, 2018

Involvement vs Satisfaction

Involvement does not demand return on investment. Involvement itself is its own reward. When you are involved, you do not have an eye on what's in it for you. Rather, you are focused on the object of your involvement itself. What do you bring to it?

You can be involved on days when you are not particularly fulfilled or happy, but you cannot be satisfied on days when you are not fulfilled or happy. Involvement produces interest, interest produces involvement, and together they reinforce each other.

Since life is inherently dynamic, you will never be able to reach a steady state of full satisfaction. What you can be is fully involved.

- Little excerpts from "Creating", by Robert Fritz

Monday, April 9, 2018

Joseph Campbell


We have not even to risk the adventure alone 
for the heroes of all time have gone before us;
the labyrinth is thoroughly known; 
we have only to follow the thread of the hero-path. 
And where we had thought to find an 
abomination, we shall find a God; 
where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves; 
where we had thought to travel outward, 
we shall come to the center of our own existence; 
where we had thought to be alone, 
we shall be with all the world.

- Joseph Campbell

What is it

Sometimes it's hard to see the world as a magical place. There is much we can think about, but in the end it's what's in front of us, what's surrounding us, what we can capture with our senses.

When everything is still and quiet on the outside, and still and quiet on the inside, it's as if I didn't really exist.
What's it all made of?
What's all this stuff in between,
in between the two quiet stillnesses?
Are the trees really made of the same stuff my body is?
Is the space between that tree and I also of the same material?
Are we really all one, all this stuff and I?

Shedding Mystery in the Woods

A walk in the woods
Lets us come out of hiding.
We hang our coats at the gate,
And shiver our hearts open,
Step by step, stone by stone, skipping,
Unravelling the truth we were bundled in,
Shedding the mystery that was us in the city.

- me

Stirring Coffee

Little things,
like how you stirred
your coffee;
They are little things,
that now are a
part of me.

- me

Haiku

You only ever
see the beauty in my face -
Never my darkness.

- me

Monday, March 26, 2018

Staring at the Flame


We are coming in closer to the flame: our peripheral shrinks, our surroundings cave in on us, almost as if we were being consumed by the darkness. If we shifted our awareness to the darkness that surrounds us while focused on the candle light, we might sense fear. When the candle is there, when it is our primary focus - when we know it is simply a candle shining brightly - we are able to understand and appreciate its heat, its warmth, and know it as good. We are not afraid. We are comforted. Yet we do not learn to appreciate the darkness that surrounds it.

We have been standing far away from the flame, able to see both the light it emits and the shadows it creates. But as we journey inward, as we journey towards our own inner flame, the fear sets in, the anxiety builds. There is now so much we cannot see. The blurry edges of our vision become more and more defined, more solid and heavy. Perhaps this is the next phase of our evolution as human beings.  Inspecting the darkest corners of our beings, shifting to the primitive, the will to survive, the fight-or-flight which can sense the imminent death of our aliveness. That is what we are getting closer to. We have inspected the light closely long enough -- we know of it well. Now, are we brave enough to dive into the dark peripherals of our earth-bound existence?

"From time to time, back in the woods, that primitive wildness was there. If that's all God is, I'll settle for it. I'll settle for it easily, and thankfully." - Parker J. Palmer

We relate the darkness to fear and therefore to something holding us back, holding us down, keeping us from the light. Perhaps we must shift our view of these two opposing realities in order to start the healing process of our deeply depressed generation.

"You seem to look upon depression as the hand of an enemy trying to crush you. Do you think you could see it instead as the hand of a friend pressing you down onto ground on which it is safe to stand?" - Unknown

"Going into my experience of depression, I thought of the spiritual life as sort of climbing a mountain until you got to this high, elevated point, where you could touch the hand of God or see a vision of wholeness and beauty. The spiritual life, at that time, had nothing to do, as far as I was concerned, with going into the valley of the shadow of death. Even though that phrase is right there at the heart of my own spiritual tradition, that wasn’t what it was about for me. So on one level, you think, "This is the least spiritual thing I’ve ever done.” And the soul is absent, God is absent, faith is absent; all of the faculties that I depended on before I went into depression were now utterly useless.

And yet, as I worked my way through that darkness, I sometimes became aware that way back there in the woods, somewhere, was this sort of primitive piece of animal life — just some kind of existential reality, some kind of core of being, of my own being; I don’t know, maybe of the life force generally — and that was somehow holding out the hope of life to me. And so I now see the soul as that wild creature way back there in the woods that knows how to survive in very hard places, knows how to survive in places where the intellect doesn’t, where the feelings don’t, and where the will cannot" - Parker J. Palmer, from On Being with Krista Tippett

Monday, March 19, 2018

Kindness

KINDNESS
by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is / 
you must lose things, / 
feel the future dissolve in a moment / 
like salt in a weakened broth. / 
What you held in your hand, / 
what you counted and carefully saved, / 
all this must go so you know / 
how desolate the landscape can be / 
between the regions of kindness. / 
How you ride and ride / 
thinking the bus will never stop, / 
the passengers eating maize and chicken / 
will stare out the window forever. // 

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, / 
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho / 
lies dead by the side of the road. / 
You must see how this could be you, / 
how he too was someone / 
who journeyed through the night with plans / 
and the simple breath that kept him alive. // 

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, / 
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. / 
You must wake up with sorrow. / 
You must speak to it till your voice / 
catches the thread of all sorrows / 
and you see the size of the cloth. / 
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore, / 
only kindness that ties your shoes / 
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread, / 
only kindness that raises its head / 
from the crowd of the world to say / 
It is I you have been looking for, / 
and then goes with you everywhere / 
like a shadow or a friend.

Thursday, March 8, 2018

For one who is not there


Thanks for saying it so beautifully, Henry Rollins.

I think it’s great for two people to be together. That is a good number. I think, that to keep it alive though, you can’t spend every day together. It wears out the magic, Love means nothing to me if it’s not fortified with fierce, painful longing, brief explosive instances of furious passion and intimacy and then a sad parting for a time. In that way, you can give your life to it and still have a life of your own. I think some couples spend too much time together. They flatten out the potential for experience by constant closeness. Passion builds over time like steam. Let it rage until it’s exhausted and then leave it alone to let it build up again. Why can’t love be insane and distorted? How can it be vital if it has the same threshold as normal day-to-day experience?

Why can’t you write burning letters and let your nocturnal self smoulder with desire for one who is not there? Why not let the days before you see her be excruciating and ferment in your mind so on the day you go to the airport to pick her up, you’re nearly sick with anticipation? And then when desire shows the first sign of contentment, throw it back it its cage and let it slowly build itself back into a state of starved fury. Then when you are together, it all matters. So that when you look into her eyes, you lose your balance, so that when she touches you, it feels like you have never been touched before. When she says your name, you think it was she who named you. When she has gone, you bury your face in the pillow to smell her hair and you lie awake at night remembering your face in her neck, her breathing and the amazing smell of her skin. Your eyes go wet because you want her so bad and miss her so much. Now that is worth the miles and the time. That matches the inferno of life. Otherwise you poison each other with your presence day after day as you drag each other through the inevitable mundane aspects of your lives. That is the slow death that I see slapped on faces everywhere I go. It’s part of the world’s sadness that’s more empty than cold, poorly lit rooms in cities of the American night.

PS: Thanks Cal for literally digging up this treasure.

Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Death is Certain, a meditation


Stephen Bachelor on "Wondrous Doubt"


Listen to the whole podcast: Wondrous Doubt - On Being


"The weird paradox is that the more you ask yourself that question — “Death is certain; its time is uncertain: What should I do?” — this brings you back to a very vivid sense that you’re alive. It intensifies the sense of aliveness, in terms of how you see the colors, the shapes, the leaves, the flowers, the — whatever impacts you visually or from the ears to the nose to the tongue to the body to the mind. It is a kind of intensifier of being alive, a kind of — almost a celebration of being here at all.


And that is infused not only with a sense of wonder, but also with a sense of possibility, a sense of responsibility — that in what you say, think, do, this may be your final legacy on this earth. That, to me, is where this reflection leads me. And it’s with me — I wouldn’t say every single minute of every single day; I also have moments in which I’m not particularly proud of how I speak or act or think. But broadly speaking, I find myself constantly returning to what’s implicit in that question. And that has made my life, I think, very full. I’m deeply grateful for the practices that this tradition has brought me, and I very much hope that others, too, will find value in these ideas and it will allow their lives, too, to flourish. "

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Utterly Humbled by Mystery

I love Richard Rohr. Living in Deep Time is a really great podcast episode with him and Krista Tippett from On Being. His words take me deep, they make real sense to me (because he doesn't believe there should ever be too many certainties in life).

---

Utterly Humbled by Mystery

I believe in mystery and multiplicity. To religious believers this may sound almost pagan. But I don’t think so. My very belief and experience of a loving and endlessly creative God has led me to trust in both.
I’ve had the good fortune of teaching and preaching across much of the globe, while also struggling to make sense of my experience in my own tiny world. This life journey has led me to love mystery and not feel the need to change it or make it un-mysterious. This has put me at odds with many other believers I know who seem to need explanations for everything.
Religious belief has made me comfortable with ambiguity. “Hints and guesses,” as T.S. Eliot would say. I often spend the season of Lent in a hermitage, where I live alone for the whole 40 days. The more I am alone with the Alone, the more I surrender to ambivalence, to happy contradictions and seeming inconsistencies in myself and almost everything else, including God. Paradoxes don’t scare me anymore.
When I was young, I couldn’t tolerate such ambiguity. My education had trained me to have a lust for answers and explanations. Now, at age 63, it’s all quite different. I no longer believe this is a quid pro quo universe — I’ve counseled too many prisoners, worked with too many failed marriages, faced my own dilemmas too many times and been loved gratuitously after too many failures.
Whenever I think there’s a perfect pattern, further reading and study reveal an exception. Whenever I want to say “only” or “always,” someone or something proves me wrong. My scientist friends have come up with things like “principles of uncertainty” and dark holes. They’re willing to live inside imagined hypotheses and theories. But many religious folks insist on answers that are always true. We love closure, resolution and, clarity, while thinking that we are people of “faith”! How strange that the very word “faith” has come to mean its exact opposite.
People who have really met the Holy are always humble. It’s the people who don’t know who usually pretend that they do. People who’ve had any genuine spiritual experience always know they don’t know. They are utterly humbled before mystery. They are in awe before the abyss of it all, in wonder at eternity and depth, and a Love, which is incomprehensible to the mind. It is a litmus test for authentic God experience, and is — quite sadly — absent from much of our religious conversation today. My belief and comfort is in the depths of Mystery, which should be the very task of religion.

Mexico

Mexico changed my life.
I knew it would, deep down inside, but I wasn't sure how. Heck, I'm still not 100% sure how.

But there's a few things I realized:

1. I don't need much.

2. I don't really know what love is.

3. I like people, a lot.

4. Water and I have become great friends.

5. I belong in hot climates.

6. I am drawn to cacti.

7. I love rolling around, new interest being on a skateboard.

8. I want to dance every day and as much as possible.

9. I love and hate being humiliated.

10. Life is transient and I fit right in.

11. I can actually still speak French kinda.

30

So.

I'm 30 years old.
Young.
Old... it depends how you look at it.
I looked at the "30 years old" birthday card I received from mom and it looked a little surreal. I couldn't tell if I shouldn't be this old yet or if I should be older.

I feel mature, and immature all at the same time.
I feel like I am where I always wanted to be, yet so displaced at the same time.
I have a lot of assumptions, a lot of understanding, but I know nothing.

I don't think I should have it figured out. Everyone says by 30 you should have it figured out. That's bullshit. I don't think we should ever really have it figured out; once you do, you might as well be dead. It's the journey not the destination right? What if swimming in this endless ocean and being brought back to shore and coming back in and being brought back and repeating this pattern forever is actually what life's all about? What if we never find a purpose in life, rather we see that everything around us IS the reason: to swim in it?

I believe I have solidified my understanding of myself throughout my 20s ... for now.
I may have become a new Lydia about 10 times in my 20s.
That's once a year.





Sunday, February 18, 2018

Chemistry and Alchemy

The Difference Between Chemistry and Alchemy

-- Translated in English from its original Spanish form (below) --

They asked the Teacher what the difference was between chemistry and alchemy in relationships and he answered these beautiful and wise words: 

People looking for "Chemistry" are scientists of love, 
that is, they are accustomed to action and reaction. 
People who find "Alchemy" are artists of love,
They constantly create new ways of loving. 

Chemists love out of necessity.
The Alchemists by choice. 
Chemistry dies with time,
Alchemy is born through time.
Chemistry loves the container.
Alchemy enjoys the content. 
Chemistry happens.
Alchemy is built. 

Everyone is looking for Chemistry, only some find Alchemy. 
Chemistry attracts and distracts male and female,
Alchemy integrates the masculine and feminine principle,
Which is how it becomes a relationship of free individuals
With its own wings, and not in an attraction that is subject to the whims of the ego. 

In conclusion, the Master said looking at his students: 

Alchemy brings together what Chemistry separates.
Alchemy is real marriage, chemistry divorce which we see every day in most couples. 

Let's start building conscious relationships, because chemistry will always age the body,
while alchemy will always caress us from within.

-- In Spanish --

Le preguntaron al Maestro cuál era la diferencia entre la química y la alquimia en las relaciones de pareja y contesto estas hermosas y sabias palabras:

Las personas que buscan "Química" son científicos del amor,
es decir, están acostumbrados a la acción y a la reacción.
Las personas que encuentran la "Alquimia" son artistas del amor,
crean constantemente nuevas formas de amar.

Los Químicos aman por necesidad.
Los Alquimistas por elección.

La Química muere con el tiempo,
La Alquimia nace a través del tiempo...

La Química ama el envase.
La Alquimia disfruta del contenido.

La Química sucede.
La Alquimia se construye.

Todos buscan Química,
solo algunos encuentran la Alquimia.

La Química atrae y distrae a machistas y a feministas.
La Alquimia integra el principio masculino y femenino,
por eso se transforma en una relación de individuos libres
y con alas propias, y no en una atracción que está sujeta
a los caprichos del ego.

En conclusión, dijo el Maestro mirando a sus alumnos:

La Alquimia reúne lo que la Química separa.
La Alquimia es el matrimonio real, la Química el divorcio
que vemos todos los días en la mayoría de las parejas.

"Comencemos a construir relaciones conscientes,
pues la química siempre nos hará envejecer el cuerpo,
mientras la alquimia siempre nos acariciará desde adentro".

Today's Mind Ramblings

Today I ramble ...

No matter how far away it seems, I still feel the presence within. The distance matters not. The circumstances matter not. The space between matters not. The heart remembers, captivates, keeps the alchemy alive.

The sensation of the sand between my toes.  The sensation of the moist air entering my lungs. The ocean sweeping my body away; is it outside of me? inside of me? It's everywhere! Crashing into me. Crashing into it. I am the ocean, I know this now.

I thank the memories I hold, for this is a gift not everyone may enjoy. I am grateful for the ability to hold memories. The ability to wake up and remember. The ability to wake up and surrender to the present while integrating the past, the constant reminders of tenderness and vulnerability and constant gain and loss. The patterns I've created and let go of.

I travel daily to the places that filled my heart, body and soul, expanding beyond the limitations of skin. The lusciousness ... the consciousness of the sun's rays upon the skin! It surely is real. The limitations are real, the physical form keeps me rooted, yet I find more each day that I am not energetically limited by these boundaries. Astrally, emotionally, I travel across dimensions, across planes of existence, across time and space, backwards and forwards to experience what was and what will be.



Monday, January 22, 2018

Closer to the ground

When you have brought yourself down,
When you feel you have been beaten -
Have been exhausted of your power,

Remember;

You are not in a position to give up.
Rather, you are closer to the ground
so you may regain your strength
to rise again.
You are cultivating energy
to face another you.
Take your time,
find your footing.
You are in a great position
to do so.

Sunday, January 21, 2018

The Gap - Seth Godin


There's a gap between where you are and where you want to be.
Many gaps, in fact, but imagine just one of them.
That gap--is it fuel? Are you using it like a vacuum, to pull you along, to inspire you to find new methods, to dance with the fear?
Or is it more like a moat, a forbidding space between you and the future?

Friday, January 12, 2018

How Can I Love You Better?


An article by columnist Omid Safi

The Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh, a living sage who was nominated by Martin Luther King for the Nobel Peace Prize, recommends that we ask those closest to us a simple and powerful question that has the power to transform our relationships:

“Please tell me how I can love you better.”

It’s good to remember that the greatest truths are often simple. This simple statement touched my heart. I wonder what it would be like to have this as a basis of our daily interactions, one person at a time. What a powerful, simple, and humble gift to offer one another, and our own selves.

These days, as there is so much pain and suffering in the world,
What’s outward shows up on our inside.
how can I make you feel loved today?
How can I love you better?
and maybe I don’t know
yet
how to love you best in the way
that is best for you.
I love you.
I want to know: How can I love you
Better?
But better love.
I want to learn yours.
You are a cosmic mystery.
Secrets written in your eyes that no word has ever spoken.
Songs in your heart that have moistened no lips.
I know you.
I know your heart and soul so well.
I want to be there for this mystery.
Let the unfolding of the mystery come, when it comes, how it comes, as you would want for it to come.
Teach me your language of love.
Teach me the way that you need to be loved, today.

So many relationships are filled with turmoil, tension, and resentment. Individuals, families, communities, nations, the world community, the natural cosmos, are all filled with tension. We need peace and harmony in our own hearts, and in our interpersonal relationships as we need peace in the world.

Yes this I know: We are not doomed to live like this. More and more, I find us yearning to be whole, be healed, and live in harmony. But not knowing how.
I speak not as one who has found the answers. But this much I know: Something magical and beautiful happens when we ask each other this magical and loveliest of inquiries:

My beloved,
Tell me, my love,

Here is the part about this question that I find so touching: the asking. The vulnerability to ask. The openness to not only put another heart before us, but to put the way that our beloved would like to be loved ahead of our own sense of what that loving has to look like.

My love, I adore you,

You know this already:
Not even more love
We do have different languages of love.

Some of us need to be held, touched lovingly, and have love glances into the window of my soul. We yearn for a touch that possesses not, and only comforts. (Show me if this is how I can love you better.)

Others need to be loved by having the lover give them some space, room for solitude. Some of our beloveds have hearts that cry out: Being around people, even being around you my beloved, is draining for me. I need to be alone to recharge. Can you hold space for me? (Show me if this is how I can love you better.)

Others need to be shown love by doing things for them. So many understand love through acts of service. Fold the laundry. Do the dishes. Bathe the kids. Take all your love, and put it into a home-cooked meal. (Show me if this is how I can love you better.)

You are, my beloved, a mystery to me.
Teach me, my love.

Lead me to trust you, trust that you know your own heart, that you know your own heart’s needs. Let me practice humility, not in how I want to love you, but in whatever way is best for you in this very breath. Let me learn your language of love, whether it is spoken words, cuddles, silence, space, or service.

Teach me, learn with me, whatever poems my eyelashes should scribe on your cheeks.

Let us let go of attachment to how I want to love you, and trust that what matters is you being loved, when you want to be loved, how you want to be loved, how best you can be loved.
Let us trust this flowing cosmic river of love, that how you need to be loved today may be different that how you’ll ask to be loved tomorrow. What matters, all that matters, is love, not the language of love.
Let us be lovers that learn each other’s language of love.

So my Beloved, how can I make you feel loved? Or better yet: how can I let you know, light of my eyes, that you are already so deeply loved?

Tell me love: how can I love you better? How can we love each other better?
Let us begin here. Let us change the world for the lovelier. You have already changed my world. For you are all the worlds to me.

Monday, January 1, 2018

2018

2018.
It's here.
I'm in it.
You're in it.
We got here together, well done.

One breath, one step, one day at a time, we manufacture our stories. Every day we have created a world for ourselves, one we expected to be one way, but mostly turned out completely different than we could have imagined.

I wonder if I'll ever find something steady, without wanting to upset the balance and shake everything up all the time. I never know what I want. I never know where I want to be. It's tiring, frustrating, and energy consuming to try to figure out why I do this to myself. It's also heartbreaking and upsetting for the people around me who are intertwined with me, whom I've wrapped myself up in. Unravelling from a loving relationship - one I didn't expect to so suddenly need to unravel - is the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. Hurting someone is the hardest thing I could ever do in my life. No matter how existential my crisis, those outside of me have much more power over my heart than I do. I am nostalgic. Nostalgia only ever remembers all of the beauty. Why did I do this?

I came to San Pancho / Mexico in hopes of shaking up my reality. So that I am shocked into knowing why I did this.
Who the fuck I am and
what the fuck I want.

Excuse my language.
2018, here I come.

What are you facing?

Granularity

You can't make an hourglass with a boulder.
But break the boulder into sufficiently small bits of sand, and you can tell time.
You wouldn't want to eat a baked loaf of ice cream, mustard, fish, bread, capers and cheese.
But separate them into their component parts and you can open a restaurant.
It's tempting indeed to build the one, the one perfect thing, here it is, it's for everyone.
But one size rarely fits all.
The alternative is break it into components, to find the grid and to fill it in. Not too small, not too big. Grains that match what we're ready to engage with.
- Seth Godin