A Beautiful Discovery: Death of a Dis Ease- Journaled August 2014

He use to drink, smoke, and wipe his ass with crayon paper when really high. He thought it would help him smell better and bring more creative color to his work. He remembered a time in the early 90’s when he was still very very young, always thinking his life was apart of some bigger plan. Dreaming of being infamous, invincible, wealthy, and still young were the “intrinsic” elemental pieces within his web of existence: past, present, and future which was his code for survival. He had more future in the mind of a kid than most adults. In the mind of an insecure adult, now sober, returning to the youthful green mind, he was now wiping asses with toilet paper and wet baby wipes. Regression or Progression? Name the addiction was the newfound game. Boring to be around, he felt like ending his life more times than sitting down and attempting to create a better one. Action without drugs is like starting a car without keys. Science to Art. Creative abstract thinking focused in present awareness mirrored distracted confusing dyslexic handwriting and images that reminded him of pre-k drawings. Was this the new great sober life he would live?

A potential partner in this new life would have to be justified and imagined to be more of an addict and crazier than he or a codependent, selfish, unaware narcissist. The combination in mind could lead to great things or amusing times to be had, he thought. In dis-ease and madness; a rollercoaster ride never ending, fecal matter and vomit everywhere. The shit one goes through to better themselves. Why must he want to better himself? Sitting on his lovely couch, clothes scattered observing an empty fridge. Takeout was the answer for the immediate gratification craving. That and Netflix. Does addiction skip generations? Or does it manifest in those only willing to lend it an ear to what it really is or can be?

Transformative history runs amok in the brains of those who really give a shit.  Is it transformative though? Mental history is fabricated false memory. We’re creating a timeline that no longer exists to say we are healed from the imaginary past to create an imaginary future. What happened to the moment? To think about what it means to grow and build a life worth living is agonizing after rebirth. Follow this example some may say or listen to your heart. You just came out of the womb, the primordial ooze of substances that fogged your energy field for years clouds any and all judgement. You really think listening to ones heart is an option? Where is my heart? What does it feel like? The machinations of one’s thoughts and behaviors create a robotic evolution if one were to just mimic the recovering. Has one seen an aluminum caterpillar break free and shed it’s organic wings?!

Hiding behind raw, unrelentless control, letting go is the answer to the observer/addict who sees their father hanging on for dear life like that ridiculous cat photo you see in every middle school silently echoing the heartfelt agony of what you must do through those awkward years of adolescence and puberty. Does someone else have to really be there for “it” to exist? Easily masked behind a house, nice furniture, cars, books, and mental conversation. Alone without friends. Lacking acceptance and emotional connection, the addicts’ father was the passive aggressive merry go round type. The father was the kid who took one turn and ceased all other turns until everyone else had a turn whilst resenting the others the entire time, mechanically controlling his every move in an attempt to keep his own addiction at bay. He passed down to some of his offspring, the “in betweeners” – jumping from slides to slides, monkey bars, merry-go-rounds, swings, always landing on their feet to turn around and see the sibling addict walk away from the playground never to truly say goodbye. Just to hear a whisper in his ear “nevermore.” Did he hear it or think it? Is it the path he truly wanted to go on? As the Raven stared at the young man, the addict, walking away from the only playground he knew, it wondered could you let it go without remorse? Without mourning, especially if he wasn’t in control of the action to walk away in the first place?

The desire will come back if the filters of dilution still contain the concentrated poison for which the first consumption began. Breaking down the playground piece by piece and seeing what was passed along from the father, from the mother, from the other cells, we then start to see matter in a different light. We see substance in a different degree. We see transformation in the present time. All that is- no matter.  What is a breakdown? A breakdown to be.

Stream of thought or Heavy ideas from Ocean re: Feelings, feelings, and ugh MORE Feelings

I have realized my car is my sanctuary. It is where I go and rehash my feelings and circumstances. In the privacy of my four doors I speak out loud my feelings and talk to my Higher Source, also myself, and maybe any other ethereal entities that may be listening. I wonder if this is natural or touching the line of insanity but whatever it is, I know and feel NOT alone. At times we express ourselves to loved ones but by doing so the gap of empathetic understanding may still be wide and vast when attempting to have someone deeply connect.  I tend to process my thoughts and emotions alone to maybe lessen the feelings to later communicate them in an unbiased, objective point of view. But what does that mean? Unbiased and objective? Why lessen the feelings?

This year has been the year of feeling which has also meant the year of almost equal time processing with loved ones as much or more so as it has been in the car sanctuary.  Almost not a second goes by where I am looking within and struggling to facilitate understanding, compassion, and love for myself and others. I use the word struggle lightly here. What I am really attempting to evoke with  that word is a visualization of challenge.  My feelings I have are across the spectrum. Some easy to feel and let go, some painful and harder to both express and walk through. There is much sadness, happiness, and nostalgia. I know I am  nowhere close to identifying them as just an expression of a past trauma or incident/experience that is masquerading as a present feeling in a moment. I can not say these feelings I have are real or fact. Neither can I point to a piece of literature or art and say , “that’s it- that is what I am feeling!” 

There are expectations here surrounding feeling and in part I think that is why it can be so challenging for me to feel and talk about them.  Expectations are at the root of suffering and pain, I believe. For the longest time, if I didn’t feel something I viewed myself as strong and when I did feel- weak. I have been diving deep in search of growth for loving myself and intern others, but I didn’t expect it to involve FEELING THIS MUCH! Feeling was not in the equation. I was hoping for mindful processing to just skip my body and dive right into the parts of myself awakening me up to a brighter, sunnier tomorrow without fear, shame, loathing, and jealousy.

Yet, the honest truth of MY MATTER is by asking for this growth, the chaos of creative construction continuously yields equal opportunity for me to further my expansion in the flesh of the omnipresent stardust from within. These opportunities bring about a brilliance that can only be felt if we accept ALL the feelings and lessen the task of framing a binary dichotomy of “good” or “bad,” “painful” or “ecstatic.”  But then I ask, what is feeling? Where does it truly come from? 

Whatever it is, I have had the greatest privilege( especially this year) to partake in this messy parade, party, infinite act of plays to practice the one feeling WE ALL seem to paradoxically feel yet cannot and will not KNOW and DEFINE : LOVE. What is this ultimate feeling? 

I measure my progress of evolution based on how well my heart connects to the egoless portion of my mind to  communicate the uncommunicative (2nd definition). We aspire to relate and connect through all we can provide outside ourselves. Through different mediums, we make, fabricate, duplicate, assimilate, and communicate what we so desperately are feeling. ALL feelings that we so pragmatically and artistically attempt to expertly yet viscously and poorly convey get muddied through those expressions. I personally am waiting for the day to which we can look into each other’s eyes and tap into those feelings and intuitively KNOW AND FEEL OURSELVES and the OTHER. In this way, maybe we would be less likely to define, project, and fear those feelings?

Wishful thinking on my part of course. Maybe that comes from fear or my lack of desire to talk out my feelings to another at times, but as I say this, all we have in this present moment are our thoughts, feelings, and actions however viscerally true to us or not filtered through a lens of someone else’s definition, feeling, action, thought, etc. This is the exemplification of how complex we creatures are. We cannot escape each other. Intern we cannot escape our feelings. They are so much a part of us, they frame the makeup of our very existence as we choose to know it.

However, I am ready to remove myself from the lens. I am ready to be that pure unaffected source who feels and allows it to flow like the ocean waves with varying degrees of intensity, rushing in and out from the beach.  Purity of feeling may never be obtained but feelings will always exist. This I know, may be my truth.

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“Painful” Transformation is the Universe nodding YES!

I am ready to step into (my ego perceived) STORM of change and overwhelmingly transformative period of my life. Yet, I know it really isn’t a storm.

God sees it as a bright sun and loving kiss on my cheek; a renewal or release of a new embodiment. As I sit here in nervous and anxious spaces I also embrace what this newness means: I am living a life of my choosing with my creator standing beside whispering sweet nods of guidance and filling my body with love. I know I will be ok as this is what I asked for. What we dream can be vast and abundant but what God provides us is the almost unimaginable.

The unimaginable is like what the edge of the world looked like to those early explorers. We could feel something absolutely profound and amazing but there were no words, no thoughts yet , to truly perceive and describe what was waiting around that bend.

The unknown created an inaccurate fearful understanding of our world.

That same fearful understanding is meeting me head on with this love that is pounding in my heart. As they intertwine and become one I surrender to what it provides. The cocoon into a butterfly; the miraculous unspoken need for change our souls require. No other species on this planet has this understanding and awareness. It is what it is, but to me it is special. The awareness provides me an opportunity to know love, appreciation, and boundless glory in the midst of such challenging times.

Finite expressions from the heart

Are painful

Love is boundless

Seeping through the cracks of darkness, illuminating its light

Wherever any increment of space is available

The expansion it can provide to spin it from one form to the other

Miracles happen at this juncture

Life happens when we succumb to the change

Finite is the inhale of the expansive infinite exhale

Neither exists

Manifested for the recognition of what can’t be explained, spoken, observed…only felt

Love will always be present…

Always

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Forgiveness and Evolution

The pain I feel is immeasurable. Circumstances and details are lost in the cloud of fear mired in a history of learned hatred and discrimination. Will someone step up to the plate and bat for the underdog? They do it in movies, why not in real life?

In real life it’s too controversial.  It’s too difficult to speak for the underdog when there is a collective opinion that the underdog is of our own making. I want to believe that, I really do. I want to believe that everyone is equal and those who feel they aren’t are just playing a victim card, but the recent events happening in the US make me believe all the thoughts and beliefs my parents pressured me to understand were all still too real. “You must be better then them.” You can’t act a fool or it will perpetuate the stereotypes.” You must succeed at all cost and act as proper as one of them would…” But even then, even if I were to be a successful doctor, businesswoman, hardworking honest and trustworthy employer and neighbor, mother, sister, aunt, niece, student, teacher etc, would THEY still look at me as equal?

Some would. Others wouldn’t. The sad and disappointing truth is the others who wouldn’t are probably the most honest and genuine about their feelings towards the construct of race in America. The ones who look at me as equal are just as confused as I AM. Those confused individuals believe racism is gone and are acting out of self defense, or want people to stop crying wolf, but that’s where the problem lies. Why? We are fighting a system that is deeply rooted from the beginning of civilization as we know it under false pretenses of what equality is based on: a fearful misconception of WHO WE ARE AS HUMAN BEINGS.

On top of that system, there have been knocks and scratches at the door but nothing to truly penetrate and eradicate the limiting beliefs held by the collective. I say this not because I am hopeless but it is being illustrated in clear sight. In the news and courthouses, on the streets, in the schools, businesses, and communities. There is an underlying belief that certain individuals are to be feared at all costs. Lives are in jeopardy if these individuals aren’t put down. It seems quite absurd to write this and yet the actions of the few who are scared for their lives illustrate the underlying belief of the collective. I continue to say the collective because if only a few had these beliefs these circumstances that I speak of wouldn’t exist as we see them today.

We can no longer be complacent.

Yes, we can use your restrooms. Yes we can attend your schools. Yes we can be responsible for a multi billion dollar company. Yes we can walk down the streets with someone of the opposite race and not get killed?

No but wait, we are still being killed.

More subtlety than ever we are still being killed.

Lynched in broad daylight; maybe not in the trees.

No, there are no burning crosses; or bloody leaves.

Yes, but in the courthouses and on the streets.

By “authority”- in the prisons and jails.

By the justice system, our women, children, and men are being raped.

If the system is just saying I am YOU, like I could be YOUR sister, mother, aunt, niece, best friend, lover than why aren’t we seeing justice served? Of course there are complexities and laws, rules, and avenues in which lawyers and judges must take in order to meet the best objective opinion of these situations, but one shouldn’t be able to blindly use their authority to behave in such a manner that completely takes away the lives and the freedom of another just because they wear a badge and have vowed to serve and protect risking their life every day for the people. That doesn’t mean you can take anyone’s life because you felt threatened. Intentions set aside here.

There are people blindly acting out behavior they learned from collective energy that stems from the very beginning of time. YOU brought us here! Enslaved us! The few FOUGHT the MANY to FREE US and YOU created LAWS to keep us from being EQUAL. WE FOUGHT these LAWS and CREATED MORE to OVERRIDE what was set in the past, but then WE DECIDED to INTERNALIZE and DEMONIZE the hatred and discrimination. YOU decided to find other ways to keep us ENSLAVED. What is worse than all of this, MOST OF YOU ARE UNAWARE OF IT. This hatred and fear is in our cells, it’s in our homes, streets, trees, air we breath, it is everywhere. In the deep subconscious collective, the hurt, pain, suffering, hatred, guilt, shame, fear, anger, is ALIVE and WELL.

WE MUST HEAL.

IT IS OKAY TO NOT VIEW EVERYONE AS EQUAL.

IT MAY NOT BE OKAY, HOWEVER TO NOT QUESTION THAT VIEWPOINT AND INQUIRE WHERE THAT BELIEF CAME FROM. Those thoughts and beliefs are NOT NATURAL. NORMAL YES. NATURAL NO.

WE are all working pieces of art striving to live and understand this world. No one is perfect. WE all make mistakes.

Let us stir the muck from the melting pot and continue to mix it well, until the external expressions of the few mirror the natural internal beliefs of the collective- the collective, which is connected to SOURCE. It may never be a utopia, but we can strive for what those “Founding Fathers” phrased as LIBERTY and JUSTICE for ALL. We are the representatives of peace, freedom, strength, and hope to the millions of people who still suffer on a daily basis outside of our United States. Let’s remain the example of those words and EXHALE this energetic strife.

FORGIVENESS and LOVE are my themes for 2015 and my remaining days on Earth as a black gay female…

The Power of Not Knowing

When you think, “I need to do something because that’s what people do and I am this age and should be this and how am I ever going to do that thing if I don’t do this thing now.” Think again. Or don’t think at all. Pause and take a breath.

In my last post I mentioned a book, The Book of Life, by J. Krishnamurti. His passage on October 31st speaks of truly breaking down that part of us that is bound by the material, the time-ridden world- the illusion, for change.

By reading his passages, I truly don’t know where I am going next or what I am doing. All I do know is that the unknowing has always created a deeper connection with myself, others, and God. People talk about breaking down the ego or redefining who they are but it is still in the confines of someone else, some movement, some guru, some state of affairs, political party, organization, the list can go on. When do we truly know what we are doing, being, changing is for ourselves?

Krishnamurti says, in the silence, in the interval of that thought therein lies the freedom.

Change without active motivation is when we start to glimpse at who we really are amongst all the outside circumstances that generally govern our will and actions on a minute-by-minute basis, consciously and unconsciously.

Now, that is a completely different approach to the New Age movement in the sense that for anyone who has read the Secret and the steps to take to manifest ones world is all about thought, gratitude, and feeling. But again, Krishnamurti tries to stay away from the leader status, the person who knows it all. He urged all readers and listeners in his lectures, to question everything. Think for ourselves. Creation doesn’t end at the last stroke of the brush or when the note dissipates. It never ends. It is a continuous movement, but not the mechanical movement that we’ve been taught to perform since we were in preschool, like the hamster wheel. It’s the continuous movement, maybe aimless, definitely unknowing, when one is lost in the woods, when you think Moonlight Sonata is ending but then it picks up again and continues to create new feelings within. Whoever we are and whatever we do, the idea is to look within and question and try to better understand our intentions.

I am grateful for today because I feel I have no better sense of what I am doing and that is ok. I don’t need to know. What used to dictate my “should” actions are breaking down and that to me is creation, progress, and change.