we started off slow, and built up speed.
before i knew it, we were in 5th gear, careening down the highway with no particular place to go.
and suddenly, you told me to drop it down to second.
the gears were grinding, the engine screaming and i was afraid it would explode.
we slowed down, approaching grid lock and i dropped down to first.
you looked at me as if i had done something wrong.
because for you, first gear was not enough and third was too much, but i still loved you in fifth.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
face forward, back to the land
i have seen the face of hatred,
and it's funny because it looks a lot like the face of ignorance.
i have seen the face of fear,
and it looks a lot like the face of love.
i have looked into the eyes of adversity and seen the swelling tide within them.
i have watched the hearts of those around me fall to pieces, crumble and blow away.
but today,
i face the sky.
and it's funny because it looks a lot like the face of ignorance.
i have seen the face of fear,
and it looks a lot like the face of love.
i have looked into the eyes of adversity and seen the swelling tide within them.
i have watched the hearts of those around me fall to pieces, crumble and blow away.
but today,
i face the sky.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Yemaya and Oshun: a ceremony
we went to the land about a month or two after Frick died. we had all been through some traumatizing experience, and it was a chance for us to go out in nature and find peace. sarah taught us a ceremony. it was the reunion of the sister orishas Yemaya and Oshun. Yemaya is the goddess of the sea, of salt water. Oshun is the goddess of sweet water, the rivers and lakes. we waited until night time and she gathered us around next to the fire and presented a few objects.
components: fresh water, sea salt, a bowl, cedar branches, rose petals.
Sarah arranges the cedar branches around the fire in a path. she holds out rose petals and explains that we are talking about death. the rose petals represent beauty. at death, beauty is always present. i feel a rush of sadness through me. i can see the words "no regret, no blame, no pain, ONLY BEAUTY" written on the wall in permanent marker. images of dead eyes resound in my mind.
she assigns me the job of holding a large bowl of sweet water at the dark end of the path. i stand by myself, in darkness while people come around the circle, pick up a pinch of salt and then come to my end and place it in the bowl and then proceed out of the circle. i stand alone, isolated, in darkness, tears streaming down my face as my arms weaken under the weight of the bowl. this experience is a metaphor for my life. people come and go, but in the end, i am standing alone, bearing the weight of our experiences.
we walk in a procession down a steep hill that leads to the river. we are singing Amazing Grace. we get to the edge of the water and each person tosses in a handful of rose petals and i reunite the two orishas Yemaya and Oshun as i pour the salt water from the bowl, mixed with my tears into the river. i pour the pain of loss and heartbreak into the river and i watch it get taken by the current and swept down under the surface of the water. i am the messenger of our pain, the group of people that are here with me. we pour our sorrows into the river and feel the water take them. they come out of us and become a part of the universe, no longer a private, internal experience, but a thing that all kind share. we become a part of a world older than our grandfathers, our thoughts, feelings, and spirits are rejoined with that from which we came.
components: fresh water, sea salt, a bowl, cedar branches, rose petals.
Sarah arranges the cedar branches around the fire in a path. she holds out rose petals and explains that we are talking about death. the rose petals represent beauty. at death, beauty is always present. i feel a rush of sadness through me. i can see the words "no regret, no blame, no pain, ONLY BEAUTY" written on the wall in permanent marker. images of dead eyes resound in my mind.
she assigns me the job of holding a large bowl of sweet water at the dark end of the path. i stand by myself, in darkness while people come around the circle, pick up a pinch of salt and then come to my end and place it in the bowl and then proceed out of the circle. i stand alone, isolated, in darkness, tears streaming down my face as my arms weaken under the weight of the bowl. this experience is a metaphor for my life. people come and go, but in the end, i am standing alone, bearing the weight of our experiences.
we walk in a procession down a steep hill that leads to the river. we are singing Amazing Grace. we get to the edge of the water and each person tosses in a handful of rose petals and i reunite the two orishas Yemaya and Oshun as i pour the salt water from the bowl, mixed with my tears into the river. i pour the pain of loss and heartbreak into the river and i watch it get taken by the current and swept down under the surface of the water. i am the messenger of our pain, the group of people that are here with me. we pour our sorrows into the river and feel the water take them. they come out of us and become a part of the universe, no longer a private, internal experience, but a thing that all kind share. we become a part of a world older than our grandfathers, our thoughts, feelings, and spirits are rejoined with that from which we came.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Love, The Blues, and Adrenaline
Hey all you kids out there in stereoland,
I have spent the last 4 days straight at school from sometime in the early afternoon until at least 3 or 4 in the morning. I believe I am running out of steam. But that is unrelated.
There comes a time in your life when you feel like you are done playing games and you just want to grow up and lead a normal life. I wonder what normal looks like anyway. Normal has always seemed boring to me. Big house, white picket fence, 2.3 children, a husband that works, and....where do I fit into this picture again? I am nobody's wife, I am nobody's woman, I am not a baker, a waitress, a house cleaner, or a homemaker. I don't put my hair in curlers, I don't cook dinner every night, and I don't wear an apron.I know this may seem a little rash, but I kind of don't know what home life is supposed to look like. I see what my family looked like. My dad working hard every day, ruining his back and knees, my mom taking night classes when I was a kid to get her credential. Dinner was on the table (thanks to my grandmother) and for the most part we all sat down and ate together every night. That's not to say that my childhood was perfect. I had my fair share of family feuding. But that's not what I'm talking about.
I have reached a point where childish games and superficial relationships are no longer fulfilling enough. I have realized that the friendships that I have had and the friends that I have lost make me see friendship and relationships differently that a lot of other people. I see friendship as a malleable thing. Friendship to me has always gone deeper than "oh, we hang out". I have had my share of pseudo-non-platonic friendships with people. I'm not talking about sex. I'm not talking about romance. I guess the closest word to it is intimacy. There is this level of friendship that if you can reach it, will change your entire perspective on what a friend is and can be. It is a friendship where you can be physically, emotionally, and spiritually close with someone without all of the things that come along with relationships. It is a complex and tricky thing to have, I won't lie. But it is also beautiful and precious. I don't know many people that can relate to me on this, but if you're out there, you'll know what I mean. Flings and fair weather friends aren't enough anymore. Romantic relationships are borderline impossible at this point. I don't expect people to be willing to give of themselves so much as I have given to a select few people. It can be exhausting, but it can also be the most rewarding thing you will ever experience.
Is this what love looks like? Do we wait around for that exact feeling? And, excuse the pity party but, what if the person we found that feeling in is gone? Do you strive for that same feeling, or take each individual for a new opportunity to learn and grow in a completely unique and challenging way?
The moments in my life seem so much more digestible when I look at them from afar. When seen in a macro lens, they become way too intense for me to handle. One memory acts as a catalyst for another, and out pours my entire life in the car on the freeway to an unsuspecting friend that until now has only heard snippets of these things.
It sends you in a downward spiral, especially when you think about what tomorrow means and it seems impossible to scrape your way back up the walls of this rabbit hole that we are all falling down and suddenly, no one cares but me.
so, love. You hear all the songs, you read all the poetry, you see all the movies, but you have no idea what it means until it completely smacks you in the face. You stumble, you fall, you can't make coherent sentences. It feels like you are actually degenerating. You feel crazy. I asked my mom, "why do I feel so stupid?". she told me, "love'll do that to you honey". Makes me wonder if this love thing is really good for us. It kind of seems like a blinder to hide the ugly truth. But I think that's a little pessimistic, even for me. I guess I'll figure out what it means as I go. For now, I'm just tumbling down, without pause, full force, headed straight for some insane crazy upside down wonderland.
In conclusion to my rant:
--Adrenaline is not infinite.
--The Blues make you...blue
--love makes you stupid
good night,
get some sleep,
dream sweet dreams.
I have spent the last 4 days straight at school from sometime in the early afternoon until at least 3 or 4 in the morning. I believe I am running out of steam. But that is unrelated.
There comes a time in your life when you feel like you are done playing games and you just want to grow up and lead a normal life. I wonder what normal looks like anyway. Normal has always seemed boring to me. Big house, white picket fence, 2.3 children, a husband that works, and....where do I fit into this picture again? I am nobody's wife, I am nobody's woman, I am not a baker, a waitress, a house cleaner, or a homemaker. I don't put my hair in curlers, I don't cook dinner every night, and I don't wear an apron.I know this may seem a little rash, but I kind of don't know what home life is supposed to look like. I see what my family looked like. My dad working hard every day, ruining his back and knees, my mom taking night classes when I was a kid to get her credential. Dinner was on the table (thanks to my grandmother) and for the most part we all sat down and ate together every night. That's not to say that my childhood was perfect. I had my fair share of family feuding. But that's not what I'm talking about.
I have reached a point where childish games and superficial relationships are no longer fulfilling enough. I have realized that the friendships that I have had and the friends that I have lost make me see friendship and relationships differently that a lot of other people. I see friendship as a malleable thing. Friendship to me has always gone deeper than "oh, we hang out". I have had my share of pseudo-non-platonic friendships with people. I'm not talking about sex. I'm not talking about romance. I guess the closest word to it is intimacy. There is this level of friendship that if you can reach it, will change your entire perspective on what a friend is and can be. It is a friendship where you can be physically, emotionally, and spiritually close with someone without all of the things that come along with relationships. It is a complex and tricky thing to have, I won't lie. But it is also beautiful and precious. I don't know many people that can relate to me on this, but if you're out there, you'll know what I mean. Flings and fair weather friends aren't enough anymore. Romantic relationships are borderline impossible at this point. I don't expect people to be willing to give of themselves so much as I have given to a select few people. It can be exhausting, but it can also be the most rewarding thing you will ever experience.
Is this what love looks like? Do we wait around for that exact feeling? And, excuse the pity party but, what if the person we found that feeling in is gone? Do you strive for that same feeling, or take each individual for a new opportunity to learn and grow in a completely unique and challenging way?
The moments in my life seem so much more digestible when I look at them from afar. When seen in a macro lens, they become way too intense for me to handle. One memory acts as a catalyst for another, and out pours my entire life in the car on the freeway to an unsuspecting friend that until now has only heard snippets of these things.
It sends you in a downward spiral, especially when you think about what tomorrow means and it seems impossible to scrape your way back up the walls of this rabbit hole that we are all falling down and suddenly, no one cares but me.
so, love. You hear all the songs, you read all the poetry, you see all the movies, but you have no idea what it means until it completely smacks you in the face. You stumble, you fall, you can't make coherent sentences. It feels like you are actually degenerating. You feel crazy. I asked my mom, "why do I feel so stupid?". she told me, "love'll do that to you honey". Makes me wonder if this love thing is really good for us. It kind of seems like a blinder to hide the ugly truth. But I think that's a little pessimistic, even for me. I guess I'll figure out what it means as I go. For now, I'm just tumbling down, without pause, full force, headed straight for some insane crazy upside down wonderland.
In conclusion to my rant:
--Adrenaline is not infinite.
--The Blues make you...blue
--love makes you stupid
good night,
get some sleep,
dream sweet dreams.
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