Thursday, May 27, 2010

Rethinking Rest

What an interesting day I am having. When I first opened my word document and decided I would write my blog entry I felt no pull toward anything. I closed the document and looked back at an essay I stumbled across studying web materials for yesterday’s entry on Religion and Science. I pulled it up and looked for the part that interested me, where it talked about Georgi Lazanov and the Accelerated Learning technique. The essay writer Paula Zahn mentioned that in keeping with Lazanov’s work they placed a reminder to take a 2 minute break every 20 minutes. I have never heard of Lazanov which led me to review his work.

It turns out his work centers on classroom learning and particularly the learning of foreign languages. This is attractive to me because I have often wanted to learn Spanish, and I am scheduled to go to Costa Rica in a month. The process needs the involvement of a qualified teacher according to Lazanov and also specialty textbooks since traditional domestic textbooks don’t provide the structure needed. This doesn’t dissuade me from working with some of the core principles although I do see Mr. Lazanov is a very careful man not advocating the use of hypnosis, or mechanical devices since they interfere with the vital energy needed from an energetic teacher. I respect this but at the same time firmly put myself in the trial and learn school so I am going to employ some of these ideas.

The first thing I started doing is taking the periodic breaks that Paula Zahn mentioned in her essay. I began a few hours ago and have been periodically stopping and doing nothing as she instructed in her essay. In just a few sessions I immediately began feeling a sense of settling. I also have become aware of a tired sensation around my eyes. I am not sure if this has to with eye strain centered around my time spent on a computer, lack of consistent sleep (partially caused my cat that has taken to waking me up in the middle of the night), or a caffeine related crash from the Iced Coffee I have most mornings of late.
What I do know is that I have a sense of greater awareness in general. Only time will tell as I continue to work this idea of frequent breaks.

Another thing I came across in my travels was polyphasic sleeping. I also was not aware of this concept and found the wiki page intriguing. It starts with various studies centered on Military training, and NASA missions where people try to find methods to maintain overall effectiveness when a full night’s sleep is not possible.

There is also a section about various polyphasic sleep patterns. Uberman is one where you sleep for 20 minutes every 4 hours. Dymaxion is where you sleep for 30 minutes every 6 hours and was developed by Buckminster Fuller. Another style is the Everyman where the individual maintains a core block of sleep of 3 to 4.5 hours along with 3 twenty minute naps during the day.

Most of us follow a monophasic sleeping schedule, and the polyphasic schedule probably seems excessive to most. One of the blog posters who lived using the Uberman style warned against telling people who will think you are completely nuts. The biphasic schedule is the only one possible for me to try because of my fulltime job. In a biphasic schedule you sleep the 3.5 – 4 hours core block along with a 90 minute nap. Now that is something I can pull off by scheduling my 90 minute nap for as soon as I get home from work. Today especially I feel like I could use it as I am feeling a bit worn down.

The final element I wish to deploy is increasing my meditation sessions which I have been highly resistant to ever since I began sitting 7 years ago. I have attended many programs and experienced wonderful states in the context of the meditation hall, but I continually fall short of the mark in my at-home practice. Now as the pressure inside me builds to nip this persistent hesitancy I see that between these rest and sleep structures I have a chance to build a day to day life that will include time to pursue writing, study, physical exercise, and finally a consistent meditation schedule.

So there you have it, the coming together of many elements in how I structure my day, and build them into a support for my higher aspirations. I will keep you posted on the developments.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Science and Religion

Teradoll on twitter asserted that science is an expression of truth, and religion is only a means of control. We then had a back and forth of 140 character messages. As the responses built up I decided to put my response in a larger explanation, and that is what follows.

In the last 12 hours I have contemplated my feelings, perused a few books, and did a, “science and religion” web search. This gave me a birds-eye view of the debate that’s been brewing for centuries. The parties involved fall into several camps ranging from that science and religion are in outright conflict, as seen in the work of Richard Dawkins, to the non-overlapping theories of Stephen Jay Gould, all the way across the spectrum to the integrative possibilities of Ken Wilber.

I personally believe science and religion have a complementary relationship. Religion and science may not have fully merged in practice but they have a lot to inform each other about. You already see the scientific method used in the religious realms with the practice of meditation. In fact, various religious forms of the major religions at their core hold mystical methods that can be applied by spiritual researchers yield results, which can then be placed in the collective sphere for study and analysis.

The advances in neuroscience are one area that can aid this discovery. By hooking up the religious practitioner to equipment we can map out the changes in their brain patterns and return specific data within the framework of the scientific method. This is where science is a tool capable of proving the claims of sages for thousands of years.

Science on its own hasn’t in my opinion satisfied me in terms of providing meaning to the complex system of the human condition. There are many people more qualified to present the data and be convincing so I am aware of my limitations to persuade. The interesting thing here though is that whether I convince you is irrelevant to the actual truth, so it becomes foolish to get overly caught up in the personal skills of the debater. I have seen great debaters shred lesser ones without providing any real value to the question at hand. One indicator of this is how often confident debaters can take either side of the argument and blast lesser competitors regardless of their own beliefs or understanding of the facts. As you read this piece it is important to keep in mind shortcomings in my abilities to convince you don’t take anything away from the dictates of truth.

One thing science has provided in my opinion is a way to eliminate the false claims of so many theologians who take extremely literal and steadfast interpretations of the wisdom books of antiquity. It is this fundamentalism that I believe Teradoll refers to when she speaks of the controlling nature of religion. My view of religion also rejects such top down interpretations of spiritual searching. This is why I rely on beliefs that are open to the scientific method, and generally hold skepticism toward things that can’t be backed up by proof. This is also why I am devoted to a path of spiritual practice as taught by various forms of religious thought. When one embraces the possibilities garnered through process, and application of principles over time it is beyond description what is given in return. I can’t give you a complete scientific understanding of my personal experiences because my skill set is limited in this area. What I can tell you is that by applying specific techniques to my daily life over the course of time has yielded in me changes I struggle to think would have occurred in any other manner. I certainly don’t see the field of science personally being able to develop me in these ways. I also haven’t been personally hooked up to EEG machines and other like devices to map out my brainwaves but I don’t need to in order to reap the rewards of my practices.

I rarely talk about my personal practice but it seems relevant to the conversation at hand. This is a window into how I view religion and science. In my life I don’t see how I could truly separate the two. Science comes in many forms, psychology being the study of the mind, neurology the study of the brain, and spirituality the study of the spirit.

Finally I wanted to address the comment about religion being no more than a narrative used to keep people in their places. This is true in many of the ways religion has manifested and it is a sad fact. In my opinion we can’t throw religion into the trashcan just because it is has been hijacked by the manipulations of power. As I continue to say at its core are the basic truths of living. My type of religion is not at odds with science, the same way that my type of science is not in conflict with religion.

If we are going to unlock the answers to these questions we to have to look closely at what type of science we are embracing as well as what type of religion. Although this short piece can only open the exploration ever so slightly, I feel it is a vital path for me as an individual to explore, as well as beneficial to others. Lastly, Teradoll I want to thank you for piping up with your honestly held beliefs, thus enabling me to explore where I stand on these issues. I’m just getting started in looking at these things (with my life permitting) but feel instantly enriched by the experience of setting these words down.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Navigating through Crowded Spaces

On my commute this morning I came up with the idea that a brief exposition on dealing with crowds would be helpful to a general audience. This weekend I attended a punk concert which brought to life many of my past show experiences. Coupled with my daily commuting, and the increased heat seeming to bring people out in droves I have decided to unveil for the first time some of my secrets of how to get around in crowds.

The first place I would like to talk about is commuting. Keep in mind the two objectives that all of these techniques are focusing on is first getting where you need to go in a timely fashion, and second being considerate of the people around you. I am not providing an ends justifies the means approach here but rather honing in on a complete experience where you get to where you got to go quickly and with little disruption to the people around you.

The trip begins at home so if you want to have a pleasant commute make sure you leave enough time to get there. Also leave with the proper mindset, if you are rushing then there is good chance you will be frustrated by situations. Another thing to keep in mind is delays are unavoidable so when you get confronted with them recognize them as situations out of your control. As you board a subway, bus, ferry, or pass through a toll make sure you have your fare, id, or any other item you need to pass through the entranceway. Preparation is the key to being quick, and carefree. I personally don’t like to rush so I only hustle when it is absolutely necessary otherwise I am doing everything I can to make things as relaxed as possible.

Be conscious of the people around you and keep as much space as you can between you and others. When walking in a pack keep an eye on the feet in front of the person in front of you so you can begin to match their strides in a fluid fashion. When someone clips my heels from behind I tend to stop and let them pass. It gets the tailgating pedestrian off your back and on your way, and also at the same time gives you an immediate blocker into the commuter pack.

As you walk look for clear spaces and gravitate towards them. Many times people get caught in the middle of large groups while the sides continue to flow around the pile-up. As you allow your awareness to stay with what you are doing you will find that there are tons of openings all along your path. As you become aware of space even within crowded situations you will be surprised how much openness is always there. If the crowd gets to be too much remember you can always contact the sky to experience a glimpse of the infinite surrounding you. Putting your attention on your feet also can ground you and pull you down to the earth when you find yourself caught up in the bumrush.

Stay off your cellphones and don’t text when in crowded space. Do not stop on stairways to tie your shoes. Stay out of doorways on trains. Move to the middle of the platform and look for areas that don’t have as much bunching. When boarding buses don’t stand in the front doorway but rather move into the back where you won’t be jostled. The more you pay attention, learn to move with purpose but not speedily, and keep yourself calm the better your experience will be.

A proper commute into work is so important because it sets the tone for the rest of the day. Then on the way home it does the same for your time spent at home. Also stay away from people that appear like they are stewing in aggression or themselves oblivious to space. The best way to avoid trouble is to avoid the people that seem like timebombs ready to explode.

Let’s switch to concerts. Say you want to get to the front row because you absolutely adore the person performing. Once again if you get there early and camp out a spot you will have a better chance to get your coveted front and center spot. Keep in mind when putting yourself in the middle of crowds if it makes you nutty then you probably shouldn’t be there.

When entering the cluster forming around the stage don’t try to go through the center area via the back. The best way to get in is usually by walking along the side where it is less crowded and there is room to walk. Then once you have made it to about three to seven rows back (in a general admission standing crowd of course) begin making your way to the center. Once again look for the spaces, and aisles created by the people standing. If the show hasn’t started yet then get to a good mid-level spot and wait. Once the act goes on you can once again make a small surge forward towards the stage area.

Keep a pleasant demeanor as you navigate through the crowd. At shows people are there to have fun so the chances of them being receptive to you are greater if you are having fun. Once again stay away from people that are seeing the experience as territorial. I’ve noticed over the years there are tons of people that like to stake out ground, and put their foot out beyond their own body perimeter. I personally do not like that technique because you are causing people to have to step on you. This is what I consider a classic knucklehead move. I don’t want to investigate it any further but suffice it to say it is not one of my techniques.

Rather than bull through crowds of people I tend to wait until someone else decides to make that move and then I walk right behind them real close. To anyone in the crowd you appear to be with the person. In this case the bigger the person you are following the better.

Another technique I have seen work really well but that I personally don’t employ is the pretend you are security, a photographer, or bringing a drink to the band. All you have to do in these ploys is raise something above your head such as a drink, a camera, or even just your hand. Then you say something like “security, coming through” or “drinks for the band” or “press”

Another thing is have a sense of purpose. Put your eyes on the spot where you want to go and treat it like all you are going to settle for is getting to that spot. In my younger days I used to be a master at getting to the front row at general admission shows. The technique of getting from the second row to the first row is as follows. Be aware for openings, or people leaving their spot. Also if you can get just one arm on the fence in front of you then place it there. A lot of times people will give way and you can then take the space they create for you.

Another great way to create space is through dancing. When I dance I am not just vibing to the music but I am also making space. I flail my arms, and swing my feet. As people give me a little space, I move in and out of that area attempting to create a wider circumference. Often when you do this other people who like to dance will occupy your newly created circle with you, and then all of a sudden you went from a stale standing only environment to an open dancing expressive one.

When in moving crowds where you have little control of where you can go because the area is jam-packed then it is important not to move outside of the flow. Let the impetus of the crowd move you forward, and make directional adjustments once you leave the sardine situation.

And in closing enjoy the experience. Part of learning to enjoy our lives is learning to appreciate all aspects of it, including the mundane.

Please let me know if this has been helpful, if you have your own prized techniques, object to any of mine or would like me to expound further on any of this. Your input is appreciated.

Monday, May 24, 2010

Prophets of the Future

Things become tumultuous and then they recede into stillness. The polarity of life swinging back and forth tells us that our dreams are real, and what we see as real is only a dream. The thoughts we hold in our head are the chalk that applies itself to the blackboard of externality. These are simple laws which hold great truth. The manifestation of this comes in many forms and is forever integrative in the present.

The dial-up memories of the past come to the surface of the mind like bubbles in a washing machine. Then the person having these thoughts has choice arise alongside their bubbling thoughts. Where does the next moment take us? We have limits to our choice bound by our karmic imprints but as we loosen the tethers these choices grow vaster. Being bound to our past becomes a blindfold into the vision of our present as it propels itself into the unknown future.

With powerful summoning we can take the lessons of the past, marry them to absolute knowing, and create roadmaps of the future. This is the work of the prophet or in modern times what we may call the futurist.

The prophet/futurist can operate in both the macro level as well as the micro level. They may also inhabit the interior realm or the exterior realm. These are basic opposites that should be acknowledged so that one knows in which space they are working.

Honestly I am not certain where this blurt just came from. What I do know is these words are a powerful signpost of our absolute nature.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

Harmonizing Voices

It’s been a crazy weekend with a slight break from the writer’s torrent and now I am back on the keys tapping along looking to unveil what’s souping around my brain. The Writing I’ve been doing this week has upped the intensity and brought a lot to the fore. The deep caverns of mind have really become unsettled. The calm of meditation is the antidote to getting too churned up in thought and that is the other component that needs to be focused on with direct awareness if I am going to keep riding this wave. Without my practice I feel caught up in the sea of thought. I usually don’t talk about my personal practice because it contains more tales of struggles and navigation through resistance

Being chained to silence and fearful of how people perceive me is a shackle I can’t afford. This is the swing of the pendulum that pulls me and tells me to work directly with situations as they present themselves. This type of openness is not to say that I need to roll out my painful neuroses and dump it on my audience. That’s irresponsible. In the next breath though I feel like my waterfall mind needs to aerate, and get walking around room.

Part of me sees this writing as too personal for many, or too self-obsessed, making a grand show of the life I am dealt, spinning endlessly over the same old ground. PhilB_108 tweeted a Tosh quote about dusting himself off and starting again. I feel like this is good medicine as I dust away the circumstances that have landed me here, and look to new ways of exploring the next stage of my life. The 21 day experiment that I have mapped out is only the beginning, from there I will move forward more structured and aware of the next step. I am not saying that I will exercise masterful control over all the nuances of my life, because that would be too much pressure. Perfection is not perfect because it isn’t human.

Then where do we stand when we look at the vast example of a Buddha or a Jesus Christ? I think this is the dilemma that is uniquely human. Becker goes down this ground in Denial of Death when he talks about our grand spiritual nature as compared with out stinky animal self. He paints man as a being sandwiched between the animal and the gods which is not very different from a surface reading of two of the six realms in the Tibetan system.

It is these cross-cultural comparisons and similarities that is making Campbell’s Hero with a 1,000 Faces such a powerful read for me this week. He has a gift of bringing together stories from everywhere and pinpointing their common elements so they form a clear picture. This was the goal of Becker in Denial of Death when he states his intention to harmonize the disparate voices shouting each other down for attention.

Nothing unsettles me more than the constant intellectual and spiritual rumblings which don’t take into account unifying principles. This is why I am so hesitant to take on labels, and firmly form specific identities. I strive to keep the doors open to all kinds of views and perceptions. My mind wants to bring together these seemingly at odds voices. Once I heard the poet Roger Bon Agard speak at a reading and he talked about leaving at the waistside the things that didn’t serve him. I can relate to this shedding of the useless, while keeping the nuggets that can help assemble a coherent map of experience relating to the intersections with the rest of the world.

This brings me to the question of, okay; you have a 21 day writer’s pact with yourself, sealed in the daily postings online in the form of a blog, then what? My girlfriend suggested writing articles and pitching them to magazines and websites to help me get started. In the past I thought of creating pamphlets that could be created on specific topics, and sold cheaply to begin gaining notoriety, and some meager pocket change for my toil. I begin to put this next phase into the workings of the current phase because I am big fan of process.

As I travel along I am open to keeping it transparent the way I wish so much of my world would be. I don’t like cover-ups, and hidden corners. I adhere to the path of openness, and bravery. Not taking the easy way but pushing the limits of consciousness and sharing the important discoveries along the way.

I want to participate in the game, and in the process find the other participants. I am okay with the fact that I sat on the sidelines for much of the way. Accepting the past in order embrace now will guide us into the mysterious future. There is many skillful ways to work with the mind, and the shadows that lurk beneath the surface. This is why I live my life as a grand experiment. My body and mind are my laboratory to understanding what is happening. We didn’t choose to be born. We start out here with a nightmare when we are thrust from the womb in trauma. The world gives us comfort but it also tears us to pieces. The trick is learning how to keep those pieces in tact long enough to develop along the evolutionary path continuing on in the journey of the physical into the final mystery. When we embrace life in such a way death no longer becomes a burden to be fearful of, but instead is just another door that we have to pass through in this life of ours.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

I want it now

Expectations are a hard pill to swallow. I put forth effort and expect to be gratified quickly. This occurs in my writing, music, exercise, meditation practice, and so on. I always seem to excel at work though. It appears to be the forced discipline of having to be at my desk all the time. When I am at home or wandering about the city I become scattered among the myriad of choices. At work I get done what needs to get done. When I am not producing I take the time to build processes that tweak the experience. Then if I am lucky enough to have time left over I use it to take a personal inventory, expressing myself through exploring the inner chambers of thought and feeling.

At home I get sidetracked, losing whole hours before realizing the day is waning. Simple tasks such as housecleaning or surfing online balloon into major time-consumers pushing the A-list items of my to-do list to the margins. This pattern takes place often in my life and yields frustration. I dislike running on the same ground over and over. This is the cyclical spin Buddhists call samsara.

Joseph Campbell in his book Hero with a 1,000 Faces talks about going in to the interior depths, resolving life’s great mysteries and return to the outer, physical world to complete the heroic impact. I never was a big fan of the word hero. In street language heroes are zeroes. This brings to mind when a friend of mine, Kev got confronted by a man attempting to stop him from breaking the window of a storefront. Kev hit him in the head with a hammer putting the man in a coma. The only thing that prevented Kev from a murder rap was that the guy held on to his life.

Telling that story pains me to think of such senselessness. What does someone get from breaking windows except acting out aggression better suited to feeding your higher self? Why did somebody who was doing the right thing have to get cut down and taken away from their family? To wrap up the story Kev went on to become a total gangsta after his time in jail. When I saw him later on he had adopted a full hood persona, replete with young sycophants. He told me he was doing real well, and counseling troubled kids (which seemed odd because I knew he hadn’t straightened himself out.) Later on I heard he moved into some heavy dirt. Then many years later my boy Stone resurfaced and told me Kev was gunned down by police in a raid at an after-hours joint.

It is time for a deep breath. I don’t like rehashing this stupid street stuff I chose to turn my back on so forcefully once I hit my stride in my late-twenties. These streets really eat you up. That’s why they say, America eats its young.

Oh how circuitous my writing becomes. As a writer I see the need to increase my focus and then carry it into the discipline of life. This is an integral part of my 21 day experiment, taking the lessons off the page, and into the world.

A few days ago I ran into a guy from my meditation center whom I hadn’t seen in awhile. He told me he had a book of mine, Geoffrey Canada’s Reaching Up for Manhood. Canada is someone that never gives up on the kids of the urban wasteland. In his book he recounts his growing up tale on the troubles of poverty, and hard living. He then tells about rising up, and transcending circumstances. Instead of moving out of the hood and living the excesses of success, he mentors kids in need. That is the hero Joseph Campbell talks about. It made me happy to be reminded of the work of Geoffrey Canada, and to hear my friend has chosen a similar road helping youth in need of mentoring.

I am pained when I think about our forgotten youth, shoved under the rug, or thrown in jail. This system is broke as we lock up ourselves to protect us from ourselves. We isolate people in ghettoes to kill each other while police swoop in after the fact to count bodies. Our legal system rewards arrests and convictions over prevention. Ambitious prosecutors are rewarded for how many people they pull into their dragnet whether guilty or not. Some cops are willing to break the law to get the “bad guys” feeling the end justifies the means. The sickness of the system plays out in countless examples so I will not grow exhaustive in their telling.

A quick flip through the television dial shows how pervasive this crime element is in our society and media. Look at hip-hop, the once proud music of rebellion for disenfranchised youth turned into a crass display of gangstas, pimps and hoes. My Orthodox Christian teacher used to tell me that the new trinity is guns, money, and sex. The rapper Paris referred to BET as nothing but muscles and tits.

I don’t feel like saying anymore about this topic right now. I must release from the misery played out in the theater of this page.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Pacifists Die Ignorant

I sat quietly reading my book “A Hero with a Thousand Faces’ by Joseph Campbell during my lunch break taking in the deep powerful wisdom as it washed over me. In the process I felt balanced and whole. As I walked away from my quiet space amid the tumult of the city I reentered the crowded streets. As I entered I centered and allowed myself to connect with the Shambhala Windhorse, and Golden Key practices. Along the way I took in the sky, and buildings. I saw how the flags whipped in the wind, and how the world seemed so alive.

At the corner as I waited to cross the street I saw a Fire Truck in the bus lane honk loudly crashing in my ears and upsetting not only me but many of the people around us. I thought to myself what a better world it would be if the Police and Firemen obeyed the same laws that everyone else does to so they could provide a model of how to follow the laws, rather than taking an above the law attitude where they feel exempt from them.

I entered the bus lane about to cross forgetting that on 34th Street it is a funny light where one side stops early as traffic the other way is allowed to continue along for another 30 seconds or so. Because of this I got caught at the edge of the bus lane in the street, in traffic light limbo. I saw a man on a bike to my left ride up and stop at the red light. I thought to get out of his way in the split second that he approached but knowing he had a whole lane of space and I only had but a sliver which would have landed me closer to traffic I held my ground.

Well this set this man off. He said something about how he would have hit me if the cop wasn’t standing there. I didn’t see the cop so I don’t know what he was talking about, maybe he is referring to the cops stationed at the entrance of Penn Station. I stopped and listened to him, not saying a word. He got angrier and angrier, his words harsher and harsher. I was pretty shocked that I had created this disturbance in this man’s life, and of course the other 100 or so people watching it.

I stepped out of traffic and stood on the sidewalk to listen to the rest of his vitriol. He then got to a question about why I was standing on the sidelines all big and bad like I was going to do something but keeping a distance like a punk. This was the first and only words I spoke to him, “Because I am a pacifist, that’s why.”

He said “A pacifist, that’s why you are going to get yourself killed and die ignorant.” At this point he felt satisfied to ride off.

A man from the 34th street Development group that cleans up the streets for the business in the area was approached by another man who said “Man, with all this heat people are starting to get crazy. You got to watch yourself out here.”

I interjected, “you got that right.” He ignored me like I wasn’t even standing there, as though he was having a private conversation about a personal incident that didn’t involve me at all.

The guy cleaning the street said “I know.”, and together they laughed.

A young guy came over to say hello to the street cleaner, and saw me still standing there and said “You just got sparked son.” Finally somebody was acknowledging I existed, and didn’t seem like they wanted to kill me.

I said “Sparked, how you figure?”

He turned to the street cleaner and said “Let me get out of here before I get into trouble.”

And there I was standing there alone with a thousand people contemplating what I had just experienced. Many things went through my head as I slowly walked back to the office. What triggered him? Was it the battle for space in a crowded city? Did he feel like I showed him up by standing my ground? Was my silence and open hearted listening unnerving him further? Was it my white skin? Was it my business attire? Did it escalate for him because he didn’t get the reaction he expected? Or is it something that has nothing to do with me, and merely baggage he brought to the situation? I will not even attempt to answer any of those questions. These are things better left unsaid.

As a funny little epilogue I went back to my office and as I was getting into the elevator there were some people blocking the entrance as they pushed their floors. I was trapped in the doorway and a bike messenger said watch yourself as he pushed the door open button.

I said to him “I know you’re in a rush.”

He said, “No, I just don’t want you to get your foot stuck in the doorway.”

I said “thanks, pardon me I just got lit up by a bike messenger a few minutes ago.”

He said “Well you won’t get that from me. Don’t pay attention to that man. He don’t mean nothing. Enjoy your day.”

I said “Actually he does matter, and that’s why I listened to him and you have a great day too.”

Space is the Place

I have given myself a lot of walking around space in the interior realms. Seeing the space created in my heart even as I sit in cubicles trapped in the mundane repetitive tasks of modern business, with specialization, and assembly line structures; I realize firsthand the power of both the interior realms, as well as the exterior realms. Space is the place, as Sun Ra used to say. Of course he wasn’t just talking about the space contained here in our earthly realm; he was talking about the infinite universe. Trungpa talks about space all the time too. Space is the component that makes it possible to breath. If we don’t find the space to exist then we suffocate.

Getting out and strutting into the world can happen in the physical plane and can also happen in the mental slash imaginative realms as well. As a matter of fact in the interior realms the limits of physics is stripped from the driver of the vehicle. Once we enter our heads possibilities open up into the infinite realms. There is nothing we can’t do once we take control of the engine of mind, and give it room to move.
This is a window into what we are talking with when we deal with the Law of Attraction. As we open up into the open possibilities of the inside world, we then make these things take effect in the external environment. This is the relationship that happens between mind and matter. Our mind has powerful energy that directly influences the physical plane.

The place I find that trips people up is when they start asking for things that are not going to ultimately make them happy, or are asking for things that are just beyond the scope of science. Yes, we have amazing capacities, and so much of that has been buried from discovery. But no, we are fooling ourselves if we leave reality and embark on a journey that doesn’t take full recognition of cause and effect, and the Law of Emptiness. This is the danger I see in the literature that has sprouted up around the Law of Attraction since the publication of the Secret. A book by the way that I refused to purchase because I don’t like the way they are marketing deep wisdom. You lose my vote when you present a system that appears to prey on people’s desires without explaining properly all of the tools and dangers of working with these powerful energies.

It seems like the equivalent of taking a 5 year old, teaching them the rudiments of language, and then sending straight to college to study the higher aspects of language. We must monitor the flow of information, and insure that handle it responsibly. We don’t want to pick up a hitchhiker and then drop him or her off on the dodgiest corner of town and say good luck. No we want to pick up the hitchhiker, find out where they want to go and then make sure they are not sending themselves into a lion’s den.

It brings to mind some of the issues I had in high school as I fell through the cracks of the system only to be brought into a guidance counselor’s office to be grilled on where I am going wrong. The pep talk I got still echoes in my brain. Here was this man who in my young mind had a good job. He was the dean of the department and well respected in the school itself. He told me that if I kept screwing around with my education I would end up with a crappy career like him. In some ways I appreciated his honesty but in other ways I felt like his advice was irresponsible. I was a kid in deep need of mentoring and guidance, and he was telling me don’t screw up like he did. I still don’t know exactly what he means exactly.

It made a little more sense to me when once as I sat waiting for the train an MTA maintenance guy began cleaning around my feet. He grumpily told me not to end up like him, doing something he hates, surrounded by trash, and with no chance of escape. I mean coming from him it makes a bit more sense than it does from the head of a department of one of the best public high schools in the nation. This gives a warped view success. He didn’t know about the problems because they never got to the table. All he offered was don’t screw up like me.

This brings to mind a story told by Alex Haley in Malcolm X’s biography when a teacher asks the class what they want to be when they grow up. Young Malcolm tells the class he wants to be a lawyer, and the teacher tells him to strive something more appropriate for a black man in this society. I guess in his closed world view he couldn’t see past the current social state in the world, and that eventually we would have many black lawyers.

It pains me to think about how badly the opinions of adults screw up kids. I thank my mother for shielding me from her hang-ups. She seemed to be saying “Look this world has contaminated me, but I want you to have a fresh start, so I am not going to contaminate you with wrong views.” At the core she released me from the bounds of wholesale ignorance and closed-in forms of thinking that I see other parents inflict upon their children. Whether it is gender roles, racial views, political leanings, religious beliefs, you see over and over parents push their ways on kids without giving them a fresh start to carry-on beyond the tight structure of “this is how it is, how it will always be, and you will be better off the sooner you realize it.” This robs the child freedom to explore their identities. No wonder there is so much rebellion in our youth.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Life, the only game I got

Day 5 of the grand blog experiment continues, and I must say many things have come to the fore. I am circling around so many thoughts, and found that I have got sucked into what may be seen as a cynical trap. In order to insure the balance needed to maintain perspective I have decided to address my skepticism, and what could be seen as negativity. Let’s just say I am an extremely positive person disillusioned by the nature of this world I’ve lived in. I always felt a bit like an outsider, lost my dad at 5, an only child, raised by a mother with mental illness. These things seemed to be a big part of what formed me. Then you have the tumultuous years of my teens. There was outright rebellion, and disgust with the world. I identified with angry voices at odds with society. This culture seemed so fake, and lacking in substance. There is the feeling that something is not right, and nobody wants to acknowledge it.

As a city dweller I got pushed away from nature, and it pained me. I feel like a country boy trapped in a city boy’s body. Thank goodness my mother sent me to a wonderful summer camp, Shire Village, which gave me the respite from the traffic of urban life and helped form my sensitivities that allowed me to become the grounded balance person I claim to be.

Balancing the masculine and feminine is such an important component of either sex. When I go into this topic I am brought to the idea that it is not fair to put people in these gender boxes. I hated being put there growing up. As a sensitive young man I felt like I had to fight my way out of situations and all because I wasn’t a tough guy. I did have the eye of the tiger way about me. There is something in me that is much bigger than my stature, as evidenced by all the big dudes I scuffled with in my younger days. In many ways I had no fear. On these streets they call it a big heart. You could see it in the way I played basketball, jumping for rebounds alongside taller foes, diving for balls that were about to go out. I remember once a guy asked why I was playing with such intensity in a meaningless game. I told him that is the only way I played. I never got into organized sports so for me this was the ONLY game.

I punished my body, whether it was in fights, mosh-pits; kill the man with the ball, or basketball games. I got jumped twice, mugged a few times, and also almost died on the train tracks, and another time hit by a car when I fell on a median while rushing to get across the street. I also got shot by a pellet gun a few years ago and that really woke my ass up.

A week after getting shot twice, one an inch from my groin, and the other in my rear as I turned to brace myself I went on a month long retreat (dathun), changing my dressings three times a day, and sitting in a chair for the first week because I couldn’t keep my legs bent on the cushion. A woman in front of me had a pinched nerve and had to keep lying down to sit. I could really see her discomfort as she kept trying to lessen the pain, and find relief.

After I got shot by a young kid probably more scared than me. I charged him like a bull and he scattered. This is the way I have always dealt with life, going right at it when the pressure builds. This is the type of intensity I have always had, and it also the intensity I bring to my rhymes.

As a rapper I never fit in to the box they like to place these sorts in. I became a firebrand in secret, and never wanted people to know what I was up to. In the early days I was terrible and didn’t care. I was what I call a cat in the hat rapper because of the simplicity of my rhymes. Over time my styles became more complex, the topics I covered vaster, and the release I got from it more profound. Over the years I can cite my rhymes as a lifesaver. Besides my never-ending quest for spirit, knowledge, and self-improvement, that is the one constant. I passed though many forms of music as a fan, but as a performer it has always been rhymes, and dancehall reggae. The passion for the art never leaves me. Now as I look back at how little I shared this talent I feel like in a way I have been selfish. Part of that is because people didn’t appreciate what I was doing, and thus I felt like they didn’t deserve it.

As a matter of fact I eventually began to introduce my rhymes with, “I’m gonna bless y’all” I really feel like that is what it is like when you summon these powerful energies, put them to a point, and just give it to people with no concept of if it is good, are they going to like it, or any of that peripheral stuff. No, I was giving the gift, and it comes from the absolute space, not the relative space, and in that way it is hard to define.

As life went along I have found pockets of people that appreciate my talent. And I also have had small victories on stage where I turned around crowds that were so caught up in how white, and un-hip-hop I looked, not ready for the explosion of words, and feeling that smothered the room. I am used to being the one overlooked, who once given the opportunity to express myself takes people out of their reference points and into a state of shock. My art and my talent always felt personal, and thus only got shared with those that matter to me.

Although I don’t fear being straight up and open, I hate being stifled and part of that is because I know how claustrophobic it feels. I also know when I tell people these stories they tend to get immersed in these tales. I’ve been through a lot and have a lot to share. I feel like so many people have had experiences like these that can identify with, even if it is not the details, but the emotions associated with it.

I have a lot to offer people and there are a lot of shy, introverted people like me who need to escape from their mental prisons and in that way I can be a model to them. I know when you express yourself it can be dangerous to people, who become quick to judge. Many people place moral overlays on situations, not allowing their depth to sink in. I see this over and over. The world seems immersed in a surface game and the deep ones are the ones that get pushed to the margins. People don’t like to be reminded that they are scared to death, and that their lives may very well be losing meaning as they move forward.

In the land of publishing where we have catchphrases and polish, the real stuff seems swept away by smiles, and false composure. I know there are people out there who really are walking their talk and are really doing their thing but I feel like they need to be unearthed, held to scrutiny, and evaluated to prove they cut the mustard. I put myself in the public eye through this social media vein ready to be evaluated and scrutinized. What I see all too often is that the people putting on this happy, composed face don’t want to get dirty mentally wrestling in a verbal gymnasium where many of their sanitized, cleaned out concepts will be challenged.

I think of the Law of Attraction study I did. When you hear about “The Secret People” they are told not to expose themselves to negative influences. They seem to be whitewashing their lives with false perceptions and not seeing things for what they really are.

I too want to improve my life, and focus on the good. I too want to stay in touch with my goals and all that other good stuff, but I am not going to ignore the people that need me. There is a gap between so many segments of society and so many people fall into a narcissistic game. I don’t want to be sucked into that. Well as I look over what I have just written I realize once again that my anger has not truly subsided, and that my version of positivity comes from seeing the negative, and getting activated mentally. I can only keep travelling on this road to authenticity, challenging the norms, and creating new integrative spaces as I see them.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

The Corporate Lie

Havener talks about how organizations become no longer viable, and operate as virtual dinosaurs on the playing field of the marketplace once they get trapped in the normative phase. He states bluntly that it is death to the system. He stresses the need for open systems to stay current with the changes of day to day interactions. Using the example of nature one sees how it is a naturally integrative force constantly adapting to its present environment and restructuring to suit these ever-changing developments.

The thrust of the article is why corporations are not able to attract talented people. Corporations are lamenting that they have more ideas than they can implement because they just don’t have the talent needed to make them come alive. That brings a tear to my eye when I think of that. Here I am sitting at a desk, working at a job that allows me to examine the high falootin’ structure of organizations and systems. I am careful not to share this information with the powers that be because I know that they don’t want to hear it. I know that in the past when I brought good ideas to the plate they were shoved under the rug. In various forums as I tried to get the suggestions into the right hands I was met with roadblocks. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I am expressing myself in situations that are not appropriate to discuss these things. I realized that as an open system thinker I became a threat to the status quo, and needed to be kept in my place. I even went so far as be invited to a closed door meeting to discuss some of these feelings and ideas I had, only to be told “although I can listen to you. I can’t necessarily tell you what you want to hear.” When I challenged what are the incentives we are operating within this organization other than not getting fired, or demoted, I was given an empty smile.

And this brings me to my feelings as a corporate serf which is the Corporate Lie. I really got hot under the collar thinking about this false meritocracy we are handed. I used to read Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich, and although I do give merit to many of his ideas, there are some things that are just so wrong, and one of the key ones is that if you work hard within the corporate system, you will be rewarded for your efforts. As an actor in the system I have all too often had opposite effects. If you uphold their normative structure, by following their rules, and putting a smiling face, suit and tie, shave your beard, and play the role, only then will you be rewarded by the closed system.

Now we are rolling up into the key points of my thoughts. Here we have what I have dubbed the Corporate Lie. This is the nonsense management feeds you to keep the structure as it is. They don’t want to make the changes needed to keep things alive.

Good Ideas, Bad Results

While online last Friday I stumbled upon a review for a book called, Meaning: The Secret of it All by Cliff Havener, and proceeded to read the first 3 chapters which are available online at www.forseekers.com. The book begins with the following epigraph:

“There was only one catch and that was Catch 22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind…Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t he was sane and had to.” – Joseph Heller

He uses the idea of Catch 22 to unify his ideas around developing good ideas only to become frustrated by the futility of getting people to help make them a reality. The tales he tells would be funny if it were fiction like Catch 22, but it is frightening when you realize they’re real and that they happen in the world of corporate decision makers. He demonstrates how managers in corporations become so bound to the rules and procedures that they lose sight of the original intent. He advises that once a system loses its meaning it breaks down.

Could this be what we are witnessing with the current Facebook privacy debacle? With this not being my point I will leave this question for you to ponder, and rather move on.

What is my point then? My point is about staying current, and in the flow of things, not becoming an archaic machine, a cog in a big system that has lost its identity and purpose. I’m not going to end up there, and I don’t want the people I come into contact to end up there either. We got to pull together, and make sensible choices based on meaning, and ride the fluid ever-changing circumstances with sense, and purpose, if we lose this I am afraid we lose ourselves.

Another striking thing about Havener’s approach is how reluctant he is to use certain words because of their cultural baggage. For example, when he wants to talk about the immaterial aspect of phenomena he settles for “spirit” albeit reluctantly. He details this by investigating some of the connotations in the religious, and metaphysical sphere.

I relate to Havener’s language dilemma, because I often struggle with this. I had a teacher Father Max who would sometimes lug around huge dictionaries to our lesson, and tirelessly define even the simplest terms until he was satisfied we were talking about the same thing. I also see it played out in the writing of Trungpa who brought so many new forms of thought to a vastly different culture than where it started from. He didn’t want to get trapped in closed-view definitions that could lead to grave misinterpretations. This is why he often used terms borrowed from psychology over the religious realms. I found Fabrice Midal does a good job exploring this in the Trungpa biography. Trungpa had a unique ability to apply the poets heart to an in-depth analysis of how the mind works, and how we experience reality.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Transitioning from a goal to a habit

In keeping with the advice of Luna June I am posting here everyday for 3 weeks to create the habit to carry me to the next stage of my writing goals. Consistency is a crucial bridge toward getting things done. Lack of consistency and getting sidetracked is a pattern so easy to fall into, but I can’t be content with a couch potato lifestyle so I must make this leap. My goals as a writer are not entirely defined at this juncture, but my desire is enough to propel me on my journey. The immediate action is what is important and the road opens up from there. It is in the process that all the magic happens. Planning situations is only a starting point, and the movement is what brings it together. I long gave up constantly drumming my head with a steady diet of self-help materials, after they became messengers of self-helplessness. The messages became less and less relevant as I saw the wealth and power games of success touted by the money gurus as lacking what I truly needed. I saw how these same people churn out more and more books, vaguely different from the last one they published, or hardly unique to the other’s in their field. Even the preachers are in the game, with the prosperity doctrine of Joel Osteen and Creflo Dollar. They claim God wants us to prosper, as if God was a capitalist. I am bewildered to think that it is so simple. My heart sees this as hollow.

I can’t tell you what God wants in terms of capitalism, because I don’t see the world in that way. I am a realist, trapped in a real world, with real problems. This is how I think.

I ended up in the realm of Buddhism when I fell in with the Shambhala teachings of Trungpa. I snuck in through the back door. Trungpa’s secular vision rang true to me, after reeling from the top down approach I got growing up Catholic. I needed answers and my Sunday school teacher wasn’t ready to supply them. I fell in love with American Indian thought through Black Elk, and Ishi, but didn’t see many places to turn to learn firsthand these teachings. It seemed the early settlers all but wiped out these noble people, marginalizing their descendants to reservations to be drunks and live off the dole. I know this is an oversimplification but you get the idea. The bottom line is that this Irish kid from the Bronx felt stuck by what the world was offering my hungry soul.

To Be Continued…

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Joe Mangrum vs. The Veggie Pride Parade



Today I decided to go to Union Square Park which I resisted coming to yesterday. I am sitting beside Joe Mangrum, as he works. Right now he looks over his work deciding where to go with it. He picks up a large Ziploc full of orange sand and gets down on his padded knees to apply it. The wind is kicking up around me and the people are everywhere. One artist sets up for the day, as the early birds are already well into their day. The time is about 12:30, the sun is beating down and I am caught up in the experience.

Out on the road cabbies block each other out and create dissonant symphonies of honking like angry geese. Joe is working so I leave him alone left to wonder where I fit into all of this. Today in order to exercise my writer’s art I’ve latched onto another artist, one I recognize as already deep in his flow, experiencing mystery.

As people come to see the dance of sand, color, and concrete I see the fascination in their eyes. This is magic in everyday life and many of us are able to see it, vividly. Still reeling from yesterday when a dam broke open from inside me causing energy pour out. I can’t stop it even if I was foolhardy enough to try.

Joe’s look captures a cross between concentration, and the dance with the muse. He wears a brimmed straw hat that protects him from the sun. His arms are darkened from all the time spends being fed by the sun, his art, and the people.

On his back is Mickey Mouse shirt with Mickey in football regalia circa the 1920’s, charging forward with with a stiff-arm, and a smile. I contemplate the rampant consumerism I've grown to identify with Mickey Mouse. As a child Mickey Mouse brought me pure joy, and magic. Now as I've seen how corporations can be corrupted I no longer can look at Mickey Mouse with the same innocence and wonder. Even the term Mickey Mouse has come to mean small and inconsequential, in the usage of expressions like “Don’t give me none of that Mickey Mouse stuff.”

Meanwhile, Joe takes out the maroon sand, the deep color the Tibetans are so fond of. He stops to introduce himself, mentioning his portfolio, art book, and mailing list. He is a professional artist who accepts donations which enable him to travel around NYC and share his work. He began this piece around 11:30 AM and will be at it all day, and into nightfall. The diameter right now is 3-4 feet and the sand painting will grow to 15-20 feet in diameter.

A homeless man just walked past me whom I remember well. I used to say hi to him, but grew tired of always being asked for money. I gave him some money but the act drove me away. That and the fact he never seemed to remember me from visit to visit. It is very common for the people that I meet on the street not to remember from visit to visit.

Now there are five children sitting on the floor around Joe. He continues working on his act of creation, or as Buckminster Fuller would prefer, his act of invention. He circles around getting the kids to give way a little. The crowds increase and I lose my view, only to have it return like the game played between clouds and the sun.

Joe tells the people surrounding him that he is on Facebook and Twitter, that he is available to answer questions, and they can come back as it grows, and becomes more detailed. A woman asks if she can photograph his work, and he says he would appreciate a donation. She freezes as her camera dangles from her neck strap.

Now we move to green and a man with a camera advises that The Veggie Pride Parade is about to come right through here. Joe says “No it’s not.” and flashes his smile. At this point we are surrounded. A woman allows her scarf to lightly brush the newly created maroon lines. A baby carriage comes awfully close.

Joe exclaims, “Carrot Power.”, and wakes the very baby that moments ago the onlooking mom told me not to wake. Joe looks at the newly woken baby and smiles saying, “You like carrots don’t you?”

A woman dressed as a cow walks by. Joe asks the Veggie paraders to drop a dollar in his bag as they go. Here comes the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary banners and I think of my creative cohort Norm Robot who did video work for them. A young girl gives me a flyer for the Catskill Animal Sanctuary in Saugerties. A man with an anarchist’s bandanna covering his face hangs with the pack, and I wonder if he is in costume, or if he really needs to hide his identity.

A woman with a torch and a fruit basket crown takes photographs. Another cow, this one with googly eyes stands by the sand painting to be photographed. Kids play right beside me, and mama tells her son whose name sounds like Matisse that he has only a minute left before they go play.

Joe applies the deep cerulean blue over the sky-blue, highlighting both sides. Matisse who only had a minute whines to his mom that he wants to go. I begin to wonder how many people have stepped all over Joe’s work. And decide when I actually talk to him I will ask.

The crowds have left and I hear the veggie people congregated out in the distance. They seem a bit excited, but it is not entirely convincing. The rush hour has left, as the parade settles down. I take a moment to appreciate the clouds, taking them in. I notice how important it is to Joe’s work to block out his space.

Joe asks me what I’m writing and I tell him a little bit of this-pointing to his work, and a little bit of that-pointing to everything else. I remind him that we already met. He says it is hard for him to get to know new people. I remark this is why I give him space. Inside I acknowledge to myself, “I know exactly what you mean.”

He tells me about what he calls the Zombie Hour when after work people on their commute home, so caught up in their cell phones, and texting will walk right into his work. He makes a crazy face to demonstrate to me how oblivious people can be. He says a step won’t do much damage, but a shuffle can really cause mayhem. He also recounts how it is better to just let them keep going once they have entered the piece because in a state of panic they only mess it up more. There is a metaphor here but I am not going to head there.

I told him that yesterday I wrote indoors, and today I am doing it out here. I tell him that I saw his tweet and came out to soak up some of his artistic energy to fuse with my thoughts.

Our conversation ends and I go back to my notebook. I got the idea to write in public from reading the work of Julia Cameron and Natalie Goldberg where they suggest leaving the house, going into cafes, beaches, parks, and wherever else. The textures of thought change as the spaces the writer inhabits change as well. I am here testing out their theories.

The orange is now taking its place bordering both sides of the maroon, as I notice a maroon sweatshirt in the crowd with patterns not so different than Joe’s work. I wonder if this person even notices the connection. Earlier Joe commented that he really likes this one, and I agree. I wonder if I could even tell the difference between his best work, and a run of the mill offering.

Now he covers the green with the sky blue, and circles the work completing the rotation. In my head the song Disco Ball, Spin Around, Spin Around from Saucy Monky plays. An old man says with amazement to his companions, “It’s so perfectly symmetrical.” A young man oblivious is halted seconds before he slams headlong into one of the edges of the work. Luckily Joe is standing right there and is able to stop him. He flashes his patented smile, and I think how patient you must have to be to work with sand.

I stand up and say, “I’ll catch you later Joe.”

Joe smiles and replies, “I heard that before. It’s just that people snap a picture, and then they’re gone.” He is referring to the part of his introduction he just ran through where he says he would appreciate a donation if you take a picture. Caught up in the moment I don’t realize until later this is his office and he needs financial support in order to keep volunteering to come to work everyday.

I am home now and will go back later after I post this piece because not only do I want to see the work further along but also because I owe this hard-working Joe a couple of bucks.

Wikipedia Entry: Joe Mangrum

Video from Ovation TV: SandmanNYC



Are you ready to begin with me?

Yesterday I stepped out on the edge of the pier not to jump off, but to look. I wanted to see something out here in the wide open, and strangely enough it didn’t require me physically to go anywhere at all. I thought maybe I needed to escape from my four wall asylum, but then I realized I had no place to go. The idea of sitting in a park, or wandering around the city felt like it wasn’t going to fill the form for me. I knew the walls that I was climbing were not necessarily the walls of my small Brooklyn apartment, but rather these were the walls I built inside my head. I also knew that time on the cushion could provide an answer to my unsettled nature, but my mind/body wouldn’t bring me there. The words needed a place to rest that wasn’t jumbled in my brain. It is like weary travelers that can’t stretch their legs. Nobody wants to be buried alive, heaped in thoughts, and shackled to wanting more. Accepting things as they are only seems to work when it is paired with insightful action. My pen needed to do some walking, or in this case, my fingers had to do some key-tapping, and this is exactly what went down.

My mind let the thoughts rush out like a waterfall, not worried if they made sense, not caring how they were going to be received. I knew that if the discomfort I was feeling was going to be dealt with then it was going to happen in the breeze of words. I got my get out of jail free card, and it felt like a wind of joy rushing over me, through me. Now a day later I am still basking in that glow. I saw something, even if it is brief, and transitory, I know I glimpsed it. That tricky bugger of realization showed me its face, before it quickly recessed back into the forest to be rediscovered on another bright and shiny day when frustration turns itself around, becoming the opposite of itself. In The Kybalion it talks about the pendulum swing of polarities, and how in any extreme, one can quickly turn the situation on its head, and access its opposite equivalent. In some ways I have always been applying such work with polarities by turning frustration and disappointment into wisdom and joy on the spot. This is what happened for me yesterday, developing out of a natural progression of being there and doing what feels right. Stepping into the flow is such a powerful act, and can’t be faked. You got to really do it. In the flow I rest as Lovenunrg said with “May you flow” in her comment. Between the encouragements of her, Luna June, Jack Daw 41 and Tom Y. Howe I felt supported. Then when my girlfriend Cinde came home I shared my experiences, and she seemed really excited.

Part of me fears falling into the trap of ego, by arriving on my high horse proclaiming greatness, and shouting about some small victory as if it is so important. As Jack Daw said in his comment, it really shows you with perspective how small things can appear like big things. As I recount this tale of my scraping out of a self-imposed jail I think of the tender quality needed to allow oneself to activate, and be the genuine article. What comes to mind is a brief conversation with Duff McDuffee on twitter where he mentioned the cultural constraints of authenticity, and how when society tells you to be yourself, it creates a paradox of seeking acceptance while attempting to remain true to yourself. I thought to myself real authenticity trumps the cards played by society. I shouted no, we don’t have to be stuck in their game, trapped in the clutches of conditioning, forced to rely on old thoughts, and be stuck with the wants and desires of our culture. I thought of absolute realities that go deeper, and speak of authenticity that doesn’t come from a book or some expert. No, this has to come in another way, and once accessed it has to be nurtured like any other seed you want to grow.

Cause and effect is so basic yet profound. It is easy get caught up in exotic words like karma, and lose its deep well of meaning. As a poet I have always had a window into the way words vibrate genuine representations of what they attempt to represent. I see their power, and in the same breath I see how quickly they can fail us. I don’t want my words to fail me, or you. I want these expressions to help become guides of truth and understanding, to come forth as actual expressions of the reality they point at.

As I write today the words are not coming as easily as they arrived yesterday but I venture forth. There is no place to go as I burn the bridge that circles back to non-creation, and step out into the fresh air. The stale space I inhabit grows useless. I notice that coping mechanisms stick around long after they have outgrown their usefulness. Our jobs are to recognize this and forge new habits which in the future we will have to discard all over again. It brings to mind trees as they shed their leaves in preparation for the long winter, only to arrive back in all their glory the following spring. Renewal is good stuff, and my heart sheds a tear when I think of my fellow travelers trapped with no desire to escape. I know what it feels like to be claustrophobic, stuck in your own stink, unable to escape. And I also know what it means to leave that space and to walk out into the world and say, “here I am”. In closing I feel compelled to not put an end to this exploration at all but rather to point to the beginning, a true beginning, an authentic journey. So I ask, are you ready to begin with me?

Saturday, May 15, 2010

Haunted by Indecision: Getting all emo up in the piece

I’m fed up with the spin-cycle experience I am having on Twitter. I get this spinning my wheels sensation and the thrill has left me. Now I have long looked upon the social media landscape as somewhat fascinating, similar to how I have looked at so many things in this world as completely fascinating. The world in my head is a vast place and I realize in so many ways I am yet to truly share or activate so many aspects of it. Up until now I have contented myself with a periphery view of life, and allowed my dreams to sink in and out my consciousness with little of the persistent discipline that is needed to take my aspirations into the next level of outward fruition. In a tantric way I keep being forced to arrive back at the present moment to build back up something that resembles what I am looking for. As I look once again at the path of bridging my desire, accepting my present reality, and setting my ship in the direction I want to go, it forces me to take an inventory of the whole kit and caboodle.
I realize as I allow myself to express the thoughts that are rolling around in my brain in such a disjointed fashion that I got to get on the keyboard and type away what is up there. I have done so much writing of the spontaneous sort, and in many ways have given myself a tremendous gift in the process. The issue that comes up is that there is sense of wanting more, of feeling disappointment, of getting side-tracked. I get so damn frustrated with the repetitive cycle of not moving forward.
Now in some ways this is an illusion because I am moving forward all the time. My anger which once could spiral out of control with little urging has become quieted. As I look at the accomplishments that I have made I see that once something happens that I wanted, the thing soon becomes a shoddy replacement for the next thing I am looking to experience. This acquisitive attitude is more the problem than any means to the solution. I look at all the advice out there and see so much of it as not speaking directly to me. So many of the people around me who are the so-called experts are feeding me partial views based on worldly success and this seems to fall far from the mark. What is this constant disillusionment I am experiencing? I wonder aloud with you today because I want answers, and I mean ones that really satisfy my brain, not quick First Noble Truth ones about suffering and the path to liberation. Don’t waste your time telling me that stuff. I already bought in on that plan. What I need is real practical stuff, and I daresay that there is probably very little chance that it will come from the advice of others anyway.
Being the adult version of a once smart kid, I got the information logged. It is the experiential nature of things that conquers me sometimes. As I begin to open up and say to hell with it, this is what you got, and this is where I am at, I see the danger. I have always been willing to put myself out there in radical ways. I have always found ways to test my limits and test my experiences so I know that I don’t need to completely reinvent myself.
Actually what I need to do is write. I need to communicate, and I need to do it outside not only of that needling “need” insisting that arrives, as I continually second-guess my use of language and keep trying to put things in the right context with the right understanding. Communication is such a challenging thing because language can mean so many things to us in so many instances that some days silence makes so much more sense. I jabber endlessly to my girlfriend and attempt to express myself to her. I am so thankful for her endless patience with me even though it probably stresses her so much of the time.
I maintain opinions about everything and one of my odd gifts is that I can spot when things are wrong so quickly. My gift feels like a curse and I now feel like I am breathing in a claustrophobic box, but at the same time I do not want to leave. So here you have it, my emo approach to the whole thing and a rant about the frustration of the dissatisfied creative. Gosh I’m sure we hear this spiel so much before. And of course we have the other extreme which is to hide the frustrations we feel, and put on a good face. My heart yells bullshit when I think of that approach. I know that all of this seemingly “on the ball” folks can’t really be so on the ball as they seem because all you have to see is all the suicides, addiction, anger, mistreatment of each other, all the overblown egos, narcissists and self-referential folks around us.
I step out of my cocoon into the light ever so hesitantly not entirely sure what it is that I am getting at, but also with a sense that I am most definitely getting at something. I see that I don’t have to wait to find something to write about. Nor do I have to craft a perfect piece. Nor do I have to take my innermost thoughts and bury them in a journal somewhere. What I can, and apparently am about to do is make my clarion call to be released from my cerebral prison. Yes it will come through my practice as well. But I see that it needs to come out of my writing. Talking yesterday with Twitter User Luna June about what I needed to do made me see once again that I got to roll out my mind like a carpet and begin welcoming the world in. I can’t let fear of feedback, being ignored, or any of the sorts stop me. I can’t hide it. I am here to take advantage of the nature of the world wide web, and take advantage of the fact that as far as I know you will still not be thrown in jail for expressing how you feel. I got to scream, and roar like the Leo Lion that I am. I am ready to yell, but not in a way of releasing anger like some nouveau primal scream therapy, no this is the roar of recognizing I am me. I see when I write how the words come out as quickly as they arrive in my head, and then when they hit the paper they have a basic coherence, a basic underlying logic that is good. I see that I can let loose the cannon in ways that so many of my peers day to day never even begin to let themselves do.
One interesting mini-awakening that came the other day was while reading Midal’s biography of Trungpa where he explains how “first thought, best thought”, Is not crudely talking about just the first thing that arrives in your head as that first thought, but that it is the first good thought that comes form the relaxed or enlightened state, finding the pure thought. I was so struck by that because as someone who navigated thought most of the Artist Way program, free wrote a storm, have been free styling rap since my mid-teens, and all the other ways I have been able to openly express in the fire of the moment, that I am questioning if I ever consistently arrived at a "first thought" in the sense Midal framed it. But here we go again saying okay yes all those things happened and now we got to move on. We got to gather it all together, and in the process rest with this constant ”need” and “got to” thing that always seems to surface. In many ways I feel haunted by all of the success and personal development literature I immersed myself in as I voraciously went about conceptually grasping this “whole thing” and turn my dreams into ways to make money, or ways to be a focal point of others. I wanted to be successful. I wanted to achieve things, but now as I look at what does that mean the thing unravels a bit.
I have gone from distrust of money, success, and the wealthy to wanting those things, to now just wanting to be free in a Rudolf Steiner or Krishnamurti sense. I want to be released from the bounds of all this frustration, or in the very least be okay within the bounds of frustration if that is the place I really am at. Well now I must stop, and not worry so much about my results. The results will always still be here, it is the engaged attitude within the process that drives its message home to my space station. Give me authenticity, keeps ringing in my head from a song that comes on my internet radio often. I don’t even know what song it is, but nevertheless it haunts me. Today I really do feel like I am being haunted. So be it, now ends my rant.