Blissfully Naked.

10 things I am/am not.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Fri, 29 Feb 2008 23:44:56 -0600

I am left-handed.
I am right-brained.
I am singular.
I am introspective.
I am spiritual.
I am a potter.
I am a manifesting generator (also known as the Warrior Buddha)
I am a lover.
I am a teacher.
I am a student.

I am not a victim.
I am not afraid.
I am not perfect.
I am not my career.
I am not impressionable.
I am not a convenience.
I am not a miracle worker.
I am not a fan of meaningless conversation.
I am not a master of anything.
I am not done.

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Say - John Mayer

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Thu, 28 Feb 2008 15:28:58 -0600

Because I love him. And you know this.

Wish more of us did that.

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Song of the Moment: Jem, "They"

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 09:18:47 -0600

Again with the waking up with a song in my head.

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It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood...

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Tue, 26 Feb 2008 09:01:05 -0600

...but last night was a bitch.

The past two days have been glorious in Austin. Brilliant sunny skies, warmth without an ounce of humidity. I've finally found a great way to invest myself in a community driven effort, it marries my marketing and writing passions with two things I also love: kids and clay. The perfect opportunity came to me, as perfect opportunities often do.

And then something weird happened. I got in the truck, headed back on the highway with sunshine warming my face, and I actually paid attention to what was playing on the radio. Do not play sad songs when you're infinitely happy. By the time I arrived home, there was that familiar malaise coating the happiness welling in my belly. By late afternoon, it ate away most of my morning bliss and left me clawing for some sort of action I could find to overtake it and reclaim my contentment.

Something about last night was a little different. I sat in the midst of that gloom and the accompanying sensation that I must do...something to relieve it. As I pondered all the varying actions I could take to...resolve, clarify, get additional information... I remembered a saying.

"When you don't know what to do. Do nothing."

That used to kill me. How in the world, am I supposed to do nothing when every impulse in me screams, anything but this sensation, please. And that reminds me of another saying.

"Sit with it."

And so I sat with the feelings. I did nothing. I took no major action to try and shift events in my world in another direction. I sat with that feeling of dread until I realized that in the past, taking some impressive counter action to thwart the bad feelings only worked to create bigger messes. Any action I have ever taken that was fueled by panic or an excess of fear/anger has not sometimes, but always been an action I have later regretted.

And then I remembered the perfect community activity that fell into my lap. I recalled the perfect job opportunity that fell into my lap. And I remembered that I actually need to do very little for things to sort themselves out. I just have to, get out of my own way. I've said that before in different ways. And I guess I'll keep saying it to myself every time I forget.

Let things come to you. The more you grasp and claw and fight and clamor...the more the things you want squiggle right out of your hands. Yes, I said squiggle. It's not fuckery, but work with me. I'm trying to sustain a good mood.

Wherever this day takes you, I hope it's a good journey.

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Catherine Tate & Doctor Who.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 18:22:45 -0600

I miss you Cheryl. Get your ass back to Austin. Expeditiously. This one's for you. And I ain't even bothered.

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Song of the Moment: Innocence, Bjork

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 12:37:18 -0600

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She seemed shocked that I was able to find her...

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Wed, 20 Feb 2008 10:05:11 -0600

Hiding

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Song of the Day - Vedder.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Tue, 19 Feb 2008 15:55:54 -0600

I love Vedder.

I'm tired. I've helped the neighbors move. Why? Because it seemed like a nice thing to do. Now...must teach Mecca to rub feets.

Never saw Into The Wild. Must add it to the Netflix queue. I bought the soundtrack. Suppose I had it the other way around, eh?

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Today's Daily Om: Mysterious Beginnings...

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Mon, 18 Feb 2008 07:44:45 -0600

Mysterious Beginnings:

The Necessity of Winter.

As any gardener knows, the bulbs that contain the beautiful flowers of spring and summer daffodils, irises, tulips, gladiolas cannot bloom until they have endured a period of cold. Held in the dark earth during the frigid winter months, they undergo internal adjustments and changes invisible to our eyes. Like babies gestating in the lightless, watery wombs of their mothers, they are fully engaged in the process of preparing to be born. So many of the greatest mysteries of life begin this way, with a powerful urge for growth enclosed in a small, dark space.

Read the rest in Today’s Inspiration from The Daily Om.

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If you have it to do all over again, don't.

nobody@vox.com(RPM) — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 21:08:01 -0600

Some repeating messages are not just irony. Sometimes its an invisible guide trying to help you with a bit of friendly support - usually support you asked for but never expected to get. It repeats when it's especially important that you hear it and you've demonstrated a frustrating ability to miss the help for all your wild flailing. *points to self as wild flailer*

Friday night, while my sister was driving her search and recovery team through my shadowlands, I was busy sending up a flare to the powers that be. I was having one of the humble terrifying moments when I realized that as much as I could rationally explain my feelings and thoughts...it still wasn't alleviating any pain. I was in the throes of asking my higher power to save me, because I realized some fights seemed a little bit larger than me. Specifically I asked for guidance, any guidance. Something I could use in the meantime.

There was nothing initially.

Saturday, I was in a meeting with some folks I'm working on a project with and we somehow tumbled into a conversation about the air of heaviness looming just above our collective heads. At least, three of us did. We nodded and shared without sharing, some of what was weighing heavy on our spirits. All ghosts of things that once were. The fourth person in our conversation, a tough as nails hip shooter of a woman says,

"My sister once asked me, if I could be any age, what age would you choose? I told her the age I am right now. She asked me the question three more times, and each time I told her, the age I am right now. And when she asked why I wouldn't want to go back to a younger time, I told her because that would mean redoing somethings and I don't look back. History is a waste of my time."

History is a waste of my time.

The room fell silent. Finally, we all laughed at how awestruck everyone seemed by such a simple statement. I wrote it in my notebook, and it's been in the annals of my mind ever since. Saturday evening, I received an email about everything and nothing from an old friend. A line jumped out at me, as a natural complement. About her own frustrations she said, "rehashing the past, doesn't do a thing but hamper your ability to see any future."

Rehashing the past hampers your ability to see any future.

Two times this weekend, I was told something about looking back that had immediate impact.

This morning, as I wandered around my office looking for my favorite pottery apron as I got ready for class. I stumbled across the Bible my brother bought me for Chirstmas. I couldn't quite figure out why it was in my office and not with the family Bible in my bedroom. Out of curiosity (and a greater need), I opened it and sat on the carpet for a moment, leafing through some of the chapters that are most familiar to me. I found this verse:

Isaiah, Chapter 43, v. 18-19
Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up, do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.

Thanks Higher Power. I got it.

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