The inspiration for today's blathering comes by way of Rob Brezsny's Cancer horoscope:
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I was never the class clown. I am not a troubled but devilishly
handsome wastrel living on a trust fund. I've never beaten up anyone,
have steadfastly not aspired to write like Raymond Carver, and have
never played strip Scrabble with a celebrity junkie on a leaky waterbed
in a Key West penthouse. There are so many things I am not and will
never be, and I'm glad I know about them. It helps me stay focused on
exactly who I am. What about you? Who aren't you? Fantasize about all
the paths you will never take. Put it in writing.
Okay Rob, here goes.
I am not a supermodel smiling in front of the camera with artificial wind blowing through my hair. I'm not a well compensated leader of a cult, building a compound in Austin, TX for all brown eyed people who's names begin with the letter C. I am not the wife of an aging multi-millionaire. I am not a charmer.
I was never a puppet, waiting lifelessly for someone to shove a hand up my nether regions and work my mouth. I am not deeply logical, I won't spend hours gathering numbers, graphs, charts and analysis to prove or disprove any theories for the betterment of any cause. Though I am moody, I am not capricious. Don't expect me to sway from one belief to another. I've never had a fling with a guy I'd pretend I didn't know on the street. I've never gone topless on a beach with three strangers I met in an airport bathroom. I've never had so much to drink that I've blacked out with no memory of the events prior. I've never gone off on a wild revenge mission wearing black leather and wielding a knife. I've never required another person in the room with me to keep me amused. I've never followed a stranger into any dark alleys and I've never leapt tall buildings in a single bound. I've never slashed a tire. I've never had one slashed.
I'll never be an actor or an actress in front of a studio audience. I'll never bungee jump with dental floss because someone else said it was great. I'll never go on a liquid diet. I'll never have a very public disagreement. I'll never be amused by the notion of fifteen minutes of fame...or fifteen years, for that matter.
More than anything I'll never be...
I'll never be a carbon cut out of anyone else.
I have no idea why, but New Edition has come up for me twice in totally unrelated conversations. This naturally has spurred some reminiscing and youtubin'. I might have scarred my little sister for life...and my brother probably still knows all the dance moves to ever video they ever had. But Ronnie? I loved you man. We could have had something.
Come on back in time with me.
When you stare into the abyss the abyss stares back at you. - Frederich Nietzsche
When I am alone in the world that is my mind, many times I stand at the shore and look off into a distant sea. Always at night, when there's enough moon for me not to fear the darkness. I stand there, and I watch silently. I am left undisturbed in this place. No one to tell me to look elsewhere. No one prodding me to spend my time elsewhere to lull me away from what I feel.
I dare not speak your name aloud. You are a fragile wish that can still be broken by the stern sea breeze. I listen to the movement of the water. I watch an endless horizon. I take in salty air with large, rhythmic breaths hoping that will still the uneasiness within me, for all is quiet except the love that brings me back to this place. I feel moonlight on my face. Somehow, when I smile, I know you see me.
I am the place in you where the flowers grow. You are the place in me that is as wide and as vast as the sea. These are the places that are real. The rest, remains cruel fiction.
]]>It seems I get my life lessons and enlightening moments in clusters. Which makes for some very interesting exchanges. Last week I had several.
Everyone likes to be validated right? It begins at an early age when you're first learning how to do everything. You look to your parents to see if you're doing it right. When you're in grade school, you're looking around at your other big headed friends, trying to figure out if you're doing it right. Then in high school? Forget it. You're practically basing your entire existence on your peers assessment on whether or not you're doing it right. Right can be everything from getting decent grades to wearing leg warmers to cutting your hair in an extremely regrettable style to dating that boy/girl that has the horrible reputation.
We just want someone to go, "Hey! *Insert Name Here* is really doing it right." Or something like that.
Something happens (hopefully) in our lives, somewhere around early to mid thirties (for some as late as forties and fifties)...where you get really settled in with the notion of not giving a damn about whether someone else assesses that you're getting it right. Perhaps it's because we suffered enough dings and bruises to know occasionally getting it wrong is unavoidable...or maybe it's because everyone that used to review your life performance is suddenly busy with plugging their fingers in the holes of their own dams.
But even still, there will always be someone who has a few minutes of time left to kill, who will pop their head up and give you some unsolicited feedback on what's going on with you.
Perhaps you're different. Perhaps this doesn't make you want to mash a banana on their forehead while you say very calmly, "Did I ask you for a performance review?" Perhaps your hackles don't raise. Perhaps you're not as defensive and territorial about your rights to live and be and do according to your own navigational charts. If not, I applaud you. But as one who has felt like she had to scratch, claw and occasionally kung fu fight to have the space to be who I am....I must tell you, ole RPM goes Queen of Hearts in a moment's time. Especially when that performance review comes from someone with their fair share of fuckery. I mean literally...don't let me see you drowning in your own swamp of calamity, chaos and disorder while you're giving me a thumbs down on anything that's occurring with me. There's a good chance I must just utter, "off with your head," because my Thundercat battle days are past.
This past week, I received one of those "anonymous list" emails from someone I've fallen out of touch with. You might know with me, if I've fallen out of touch with you...(out of touch meaning 2 months or more), it's likely because I lost your contact information or I PURPOSELY lost your contact information. Doesn't mean forever. Or maybe it does. That largely depends on you. So I receive this anonymous list email from someone I don't really talk with anymore. If you've never received this email, let me share with you the premise. The person comes up with ten people, and then writes ten open ended statements directed at each of them - but doesn't state which remark is intended for which person.
I used to think this idea was clever. I think I even posted one on my vox sometime ago. But then I grew up gradually came to view it a different way and realized this was really just a very cowardly way to communicate thoughts and feelings to people you don't have the nerve to address personally. It's also a nice way to avoid getting some feedback. In this anonymous list, I was quickly able to identify which one was intended for me. While I care for this person, I don't necessarily subscribe to her assessments on life and people and actions and consequences. I won't out her comment, but suffice it to say, it felt very "message delivered from my throne on high." And I have to tell you...there's only one Queen in the Queendom of RPM. I think you know who that is, right?
I sent her a loving kindness email in reply, and thought about my dream that I shared with you last week. Say what you need to say. So with that same loving kindness, I took the razor blades out of my words and thanked her for her concern and told her I didn't think I was nearly as lost as she wanted me to believe I was, but that was of course, up to me to determine. Chopping off all those heads was really, really starting to give the Queendom a dark and daunting look.
Fast forward to another event in the week. While having a conversation with another well intended but severely projecting soul, who (in the midst of their own personal crisis) decided it was a good time to peel back the layers on my quiet knowingness and cast some well meaning doubt. I took the same loving kindness approach, but later had to sob my eyes out in my own corner to clear the knot of fear and anger that landed in my own belly as a result of the friendly time bomb. I had to get back to clarity, and most importantly, I had to allow myself the opportunity to acknowledge how it all felt. And it felt like shit. No sense trying to dress the pig on that one.
As I sit here in retrospect, thinking about the week that offered an interesting piece of wisdom (Say what you need to say), and then followed with a few clear examples of moments when I would have to apply the art, I can't help but wonder if I'm not being primed and readied for the very goals I intend to reach. That reminded me of The Alchemist, a quick read that I highly recommend to anyone working on their Personal Legend.
For every desire you have, the world is going to test it. Every dream, is going to be scrutinized. Well meaning (or not so well-meaning) people will review it and project their own fears, doubts, fuckery into it. You will be given alternatives. Some of them will be reasonable. Some of them won't. Finally, you will be given the most frightening and most beautiful gift the Universe ever gave us...the freedom to choose. With all of that taken into consideration...of COURSE we're going to seek out some direction, some advice...some friendly analysis. But it's up to you to extract the well meaning intent of all that "additional data" and apply it to what you WANT to do, who you WANT to be, what you DESIRE for yourself. It is up to you to guide your own vessel, based on what you believe.
So...what do you believe? Don't tell me. Just make sure you believe it for yourself, because the only life you can truly navigate, is your own.
]]>There's a saying that goes, "Don't keep your light under a bushel basket." It's spoken to people who are chronically hiding their capabilities, or not allowing others to see the depth of their potential. It's a beautiful suggestion and so true. None of us should hide our light under a bushel basket.
But we might want to keep our dreams hanging out there until they are firmly rooted and budding.
In a pessimistic world that always claims to be thinking logically, dreams have become things left for silly songs meant for kids and hopeless creatives looking for something to cling to. The American dream has become an American albatross hanging from our necks, gaining weight by the year as we stumble over ourselves repeatedly trying to attain it and thereby some make believe notion of manufactured, synthetic and airbrushed happiness.
We have no room in our logical minds for dreams. There's too much reality to ponder.
And so what happens when you have a momentary lapse of sanity and decide to share your deepest desires and dreams with others? You may get some passionate enthusiasm, you may get a condescending pat atop your head from a "wiser more experienced soul," but you're also inclined to get a lot of unrequested adjustment. Statistics on the likelihood of whether you'll get to where you're trying to go. Previous stories of others who tried and failed. Recommendations on lower hanging fruit.
Oh, how I hate the low hanging fruit.
When your desires are nothing more than a lingering momentary thought that makes your soul feel free, the last thing you need to do is release into a world that is designed to sort out all of it's flaws and potential for failure. It's not that people are ogres. People are afraid. And so they need YOU to be afraid with them. Or, perhaps they've been burned...and so they feel like there may be some redemptive value in saving you from their perception of sure and certain failure. So, consciously or unconsciously, they feel compelled to let you know all the ways this could potentially blow up in your face.
'There's no money in blah blah blah."
"Statistics tell you that 64% of blah blah blah..."
"It's going to be really hard to blah blah blah..."
"I just want you to be prepared for what could happen if you blah blah blah..."
"I just want you to face reality that blah blah blah..."
They are all dream killers. And if you believe in the notion of manifestation, you know if you allow those friendly tips to invade your dream as you plant your seeds, you can very quietly craft an untimely end to the very things you desire. You have to get your dream firmly rooted in your mind, before you can open it up to the world and expect it to endure.
Your dreams are an extension of what you believe. So perhaps the first step is getting really clear about what you believe (as opposed to that junk fear tells you is what you're supposed to believe). The next steps might be learning how to protect your dream investment.
1. What do you believe? Answer that as broadly as you can and check how you feel while you're expressing it - because if you're feeling a sense of dread, a sense of lack or the general absence of hope, then those are fears running around in belief costumes. Tell them Halloween is on October 31st and they need to go rock the party somewhere else.
2. Distinguish your dreams and desires from others dreams and desires for you. They may look nothing alike. If it doesn't feel right, then it probably isn't. And it most assuredly doesn't belong to you.
3. Release any expectations about how it's all gonna come to pass. This is the hardest part. This is where fuckery abounds. Desire the most desirable thing, and keep that energy, the goodness you feel when you think about what it might be like to have that desire or dream materialize...but don't spend too much time trying to construct some deeply involved plan of action. Life is full of left turns. Sometimes, you have to take them. Trust that you'll get to the place you want to, and you will. Get distracted by the detours, and even more will appear.
4. Be prepared to believe in your own pursuits without a cheering section. There will be some moments when you feel like you don't have one. So what.
So, you've got some dream or desire you've been rattling on and on and on about. Those seeds might not even be out the packet yet, or perhaps you've already laid them in some earth. Before you do anything else, take that bushel basket you've been using to hide everything that is perfectly kickass about you, and cover that little seed working like crazy to get rooted within the spiritual center of you. Let it be still and undisturbed by the thoughts and opinions of others as you nurture it.
People will see it, endorse it and act as if they were always on board with it, once they see your dream manifest. Until then, look inward, not out.
I'm rooting for you. Whatever your dream may be.
So last night I had a dream.
I was moving around, feeling pulled in different directions, being asked to participate in events and things that held no meaning for me. I was in this state of perpetual turmoil as I tried to find ways to twist myself to meet the needs of the others around me. As I stared at a number of commitments I made, none of them things I truly wanted or felt inspired to do, I found myself going to each person and coming up with stories or reasons as to why I would not be able to accommodate them. Avoiding the most direct and truthful reasons.
The shorter term for this would be, lying.
As I released myself from every unwanted obligation, within the dream, a new sub-obligation would make itself known to me. I would be asked to compromise. A further nudge for me to take a smaller action, less painful, but still not what I wanted to do. I acquiesced to those requests, feeling guilty about saying no and embracing my wants for myself.
As I began to drive around town in a hectic race to honor these commitments that meant nothing to me, I found myself angry. Resentful. Bitter. I complained all the while crafting the mask I would wear the moment I left my truck and pushed my thoughts and feelings more deeply into the curled Cobra that resides in my bowels. He swallowed the small mouse I offered with disdain as I negotiated for enough quiet to make it through another sacrifice.
As I continued on my travels, trying to be whatever it is I'm supposed to be for each party, I begin to take calls en route. The phone is constantly ringing. Each time it's someone telling me something that I'm supposed to believe. Something I'm supposed to think. Something I am supposed to do. Each time, with intermittent strategies of logic or arrogance or guilt, I am cajoled into accepting their truth as my own. The serpent in my stomach begins to unravel and my mind struggles to send him another mouse to keep him quiet.
As I reach my last location in the dream, I come face to face with the lies I've told in order to buy myself a little bit of peace. Lies to each of them. Lies to myself. I find one person I'm supposed to meet, standing beside another person I canceled with. Everything in me churns and I work feverishly in my mind to build another pyramid of excuses or stories that will allow me to leave this event unscathed. Two more people come into the room, their brows furrowed with annoyance, preparing to express their frustration about something they felt I should have done for them, but didn't.
Surrounded by them, my anxiety is so high I'm feeling like I'm going to faint in front of them. Part of me wants to cry and ask them why they all can't see that I just need this tiny space to be me. The other part wants to wail at them that at some point, I'd like them to consider returning even half of the effort I am always expected to make for them. I want to be a victim. I want to apologize for lying. I even want to shame myself for my wants. As I open my mouth to speak however, it's not my voice that leaves me. It's the Cobra. Everyone recoils in horror, trying to put as much distance between me and them. As he sits taut and ready before them, I feel all the anger he's been swallowing on my behalf. More than that, I feel a lost long sense of entitlement and the loss of the shame that was fueling my anxiety just moments before.
And in this dream, I look at all the faces standing around me with the varied expectation of me. To fix things, heal things, entertain them, accommodate them and carry the weight of the lies they make their own truths. And I begin to tell them each individually, why I have lied. And what I really want from them. What I expect from them. I apologize for my lies, but I tell them why I did it. Some of them stood awestruck. Some of them simply shrugged it off, impervious to any notion that they play a part in our dance. Others showed a glimmer of understanding.
But I didn't wait for them to answer me. I turned and I began to walk away from them. Jittery, a little shaken but feeling the biggest burden, the burden of secrets, lifted from me. I didn't look over my shoulder as I got into my truck and drove off. I wasn't worried about who would remain with me in this moment of uncomfortable truth or who would angrily turn and leave my life forever.
I no longer cared.
When I woke, I could feel the soreness in my shoulders from the reflexive action of tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing. My head felt light and airy, as it feels just before a vertiginous spin. I stared at the ceiling for a few moments, exhausted from tumultuous slumber.
I got the message loud and clear.
There is no compensating for your truest intentions and desires. There is no compromising yourself and your needs for the sake of what makes others feel comfortable. There is no bartering with your emotional, spiritual being. There is only your truth. And any time you hide, bury, overlook or try to evade your personal truth, it will come back with a vengeance like that coiled Cobra. It will demand you hear it, respect it and express it. The longer you resist, the longer you agonize and the morempainful your personal shedding of those old beliefs promises to be.
Today, my wish for you, for each and every one of us, is that we find our many truths. No matter how big and small...we must give them a voice. Find your voice, feel your every feeling, embrace your every desire that makes you free. And say what you need to say. And let no one EVER deter you from it. Therein lies our freedom.
I dedicate this to my friend Lisane, who was the first one to teach me the first steps to my personal freedom.
More items posted on Esty, a few clay lumenieres and two more vases. If you're interested, you can find them here.
I would be the gentleman at the three minute mark of the video.
If you need me this weekend, just...well actually...just don't need me.
Nine things I am dying to say out loud.
1. Dear "I'm So Perfect, Why Don't You People Get It": If the entire world is such an inconvenience to your sensitivities, why not find your own planet full of perfect people and spare us the nasty remarks about perfectly normal and otherwise, harmless pursuits? Your slip is showing. Pull it up and shut it up. Love you, Bye!
2. Michigan and Florida, especially Debbie Dingell: Listen. No one ROBBED you of your voices. No one denied you your voting rights. You knew the rules regarding primaries and you snubbed them. You made the decision to do what you wanted, while understanding you were in violation of DNC rules for primary dates. Please shut up with this whining about, "WE HAVE A RIGHT TO BE COUNTED!" You also have the right to suffer the consequences of knowingly bucking the rules. No one's ignoring you. No one's denying your rights. Furthermore it's rather narcissistic (not to mention childish) of you to presume the process should be revamped and done over IN THE MIDST, to accommodate your inability to forecast how much of a difference your counted votes might make. And Debbie? Honestly. Don't tempt me to play with your name. I've shown GREAT restraint thus far.
3. Boundary Crossing Former Neighbors with Delusions of Granduer: I appreciate, and frankly, blush at how much you enjoy my company and your desire to make sure we "keep in touch." But your expectations are not a requirement. Therefore, if I fail to call you in a week, or fail to "check in on you to see how you are," I'm going to need you to get over yourself. Quickly. I'm hermetic in nature. Although you'd like to remedy this by showing me how to exist as you do, I caution you that I'm quite comfortable with existing as I am. Lets adjust accordingly, lest you complain yourself into an unpleasant conversation.
4. Captain Cut-off: I swear to the Universe and all the sweet spirits contained within it...if you interrupt me in the middle of a sentence or try to out talk me in your haste to raise a counter point one more time I will shake you vigorously and without mercy. It's disruptive and offering the excuse, "I don't get angry when people do it to me" is NOT acceptable.
5. Whatever rule of gravity that says the buttered/jellied side of bread MUST fall lubricated side down is just cruel and unusual.
6. Person That Likes To Make Faces At Other People's Food: It's not in your mouth, okay? Look at your own food and grow up.
7. Dear "I Must Touch You When I Talk": No. You mustn't. Fondly, RPM
8. Dear Mystery Dialer That Calls Bi-Monthly Asking For ______. Let's stop doing this dance, shall we? Tell me what you're really up to and perhaps I'll save all parties a tremendous amount of time. For the life of me, I can't imagine I've ever really intimidated anyone that much. I'm just little old me.
9. Cedric Benson: I'm not even sorry that I don't feel sorry for you. Here's some tips for success in the real world. 1) When you buy a big ass boat, make sure your simple ass actually knows how to motor it. 2) Don't think that because you're a local sports personality that you are exempt from a little racial profilin', 3) Don't ever forget that Texas is still Texas and that "Don't Mess" bit goes a little bit deeper than just littering especially when it comes to executin' a lil law enforcement, 4) Stop countin' all those chickens before they hatch and 5) Stop trying to live like you're in a Jay-Z video. It's tired and lame and well...*thinks* you are just a kid. Perhaps you need to get the bullshit out of your system. Hope you still have a job and some kinda income when that occurs.
WHEW!
Much better.
Cheers,
RPM
Someone said to me once, "what you perceive, isn't always what is."
At the time I wanted to find the nearest blunt object and bludgeon him to within an inch of his life. But time and insight can do wonders for the desire to maim. Because frankly, what he said was truth. But one of my struggles is understanding and accepting that people find their own truths and their own light, in their own time. To me, it mattered not that I knew truth as much as I was supposed to accept that what was projected on the surface was false. And for the life of me, I just can't imagine why everyone one in this world wouldn't want to be absolutely in the light. Living and being who they truly are. Saying what they really think. Free. Why wear a mask?
The short answer I guess is because they feel they must. And who am I to determine for others how valid or invalid their fears are, or the reasons they feel they are locked in their own spiritual or mental prison?
That thought stays with me. Haunts me. Partially because of the person who said it. Partially because I've been fascinated by my own frustration with it, and partially because I see so many examples of that statement in the stories that swirl about me.
Nothing is ever as it seems. When we covet what we think others have, when we compare it to our notion of how much bigger, better or broader our lives would be if we lived in someone else's skin...we're as far from the truth as we could ever be. How many times have I looked at the surface of a situation, thinking or even envying what I believe I see, only to find out later that the characters have their own demons they are wrestling. And so many are about the business of working on the appearance of things that they don't stop to deal with the murky waters of their own mess until it's pulling them under. Varying in our levels of self awareness, we either just stop spending time working on the pretty packaging and deal with the stuff inside, or we wait for the stuff inside to come busting out to scare/shock/amuse the hell out of everyone...but the worst, in my opinion...is pretending that it won't happen.
It always does. Truth is a lot like gas. You just can't keep it in. But you do have a choice about the kind of stink you make when it happens. And it's only when you recognize your ability to choose, that you take the first step to finding your own personal freedom.