Dreaming of a beautiful living thing

Last night I dreamt of a bright white light coming from within a huge web like dome of interlocked shadows. The edges of the shadows were soft and vaguely human shaped. The light was harsh on the black dance floor. The network breathed together as one beautiful living thing. From deep within the mass a poet’s voice emerged crystal clear. As their voice grew nearer the light shifted from below the knot to above the speaker as the limbs disassembled in the darkness.

I am in a rehearsal hall addressing the ensemble of sweaty artists emerging from the darkness. I am giving notes to the team to spend extra time working with their bodies between rehearsals to build stamina to hold the sculpture, “This will be different for each of your bodies, look inside yourself and see how you need to make adjustments to the sequence to suit your body”. As the group disperses I am already pouring over my notes making adjustments to the calendar, and drafting emails to the design team with the adjustments from today. There is a level of calm in my brain that is so rare in my waking life.

The thought disrupts the dream state. I wake up going over the schedule again, and determining the web image should be moved to the end from the beginning.

Bookends.

Thanks Mr. Rose.

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5x dissolvation

I’ve been turning these seven questions over and over. Here are a few related things that I have turned up in my contemplation. Enjoy

  1. 3 Reasons Why Folks Who Don’t “Look” Non-Binary Can Still Be Non-Binary – Everyday Feminism
  2. Ursula K. Le Guin on Being a Man via Brain Pickings – although her writing pre-dates the latest wave of non-binary conversation it very neatly captures many of the ideas around the subject I’ve struggled with. That liminal place between gender roles that artists and thinkers frequently occupy.
  3. Noam Chomsky has a new documentary on Netflix called Requiem for the American Dream
  4. The Evolutionary Purpose of the Scorpio in Pluto Generation via Wake Up World
  5. Redefining Death by Geshe Michael Roach via Dr. Joos
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Going to church

“God spoke to me, and he said ‘I am the one who¬† will decide which kingdoms will rise & whose will fall, and I say that I love & cherish these people as my children and they will flourish'”.

As I stirred creamers into my tea I did not look up at the man speaking, but I felt the hairs bristling on the back of my neck all the same. Inherited rage against the church of my father. It was late in the afternoon and the diner was mostly empty except for me, and these three church folk conversing over pie and coffee. There was something about the self-congratulatory confidence which this man’s faith spoke with that grated my nerves. Even as I felt the tension & irritation rise in the bile of my stomach a calmer voice reminded me to let it go. He meant no harm by his story, he was no threat to me in my booth, and who was I to judge his experience of the unknown.

“Father Clearey looked at me astonished as I spoke these words, for he knew that I would never have said such a thing! I was fed up with being there. There had been so much resistance, so many set backs, and they had just run out of money to pay us. So they called an assembly with the children to see if any of them had access to money. I was ready to throw in the towel, I was sure that these people were past hope and would be wiped out under the heel of God. So I said to myself, well I know what I think of these people, but God what do you think of these people?”

As I listened I felt the knots in my stomach relax into unexpected calm. Certainly this man was not perfect, he barely concealed his inherent racism & disdain for “those people”, but when that voice answered him he was prepared to listen against his own judgement. A small bead of hope settled in my heart. Here was someone whom I would normally consider beyond hope, a Christian missionary with an agenda. With Trump the President-Elect spitting his hate speech from the television in the corner of the diner these church folk stood for everything I thought was wrong with the world. Yet, here he was acting out of divine love to support people he had deemed beyond hope in circumstances that would try the most loyal ally let alone a bigot.

In that moment I thought about the reasons I had hated his faith, how similar they were to his own reasons for hating the faith of the north, how little any of our reasons meant in the face of so much pain. Humanities pain. My pain. The pain that I had been in when I walked into the diner to sit at my favourite corner booth where the waitress comes to sit on her breaks and cheers me up with stories of her weekend. She gives the best hugs. How I needed one of those hugs today because I was feeling so lost. There is no way to adequately describe the emptiness of depression. A real absence of care. Of faith. I questioned why I had turned away from all overt forms of faith as an attempt to prove that I was an intelligent, capable, grounded person in my father’s eyes. I noticed how much my heart craved that faith now. A faith that is open to receiving signs from beyond my own understanding of the situation. A faith that acts out of the best interests of those involved against my own petty judgements. A faith that loved deeply & fully with no expectation.

I was reminded of the one-step plan we had discussed in my yoga training. Give life. How impossible it had seemed when she had said that to me. Shed everything. She said that we were already on it. Over to God. I couldn’t understand how. One step. Over bagels & tea I understood the blessed simplicity of that sentiment.

There is no reason why that man should have had a change of heart. There is no reason that I should have stepped into this diner at this time to hear him tell it. There is no reason any of this should occur, and yet that is all the reason that I need to restore my faith in humanity. My faith in happy accidents & divine interventions. My faith in my own ability to keep going. My faith. There may be a divine reason too complex for my understanding, or I may have arrived here by a series of happy accidents, or gifts from the god as another teacher refers to them, either way the results are the same. I am sitting alone in the corner booth on a grey steely day stirring cream into my tea when I experience a change of heart. I can not measure or quantify the experience, but my actions change as a result. My thoughts change as a result. Love enters my heart as a result.

As I walk back to work considering the unlikely probability that I would hear these words at this time and have them land in my heart in such a way to momentarily lift the veil of apathy I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for magical mistakes & mysterious meetings. As I walk the one step at a time path through depression I see all the other tiny steps that have got me here. I see that we are each walking the one step path together, and whether we waver or stumble, we are moving through it as one. One step. The rhyme or reason of it is whatever we each choose to weave between the lines, but the result is the same. We walk together.

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5x dear souls

Super charged new moon energy this weekend. I’m looking forward to painting my lips & disappearing into private witchy things. Here are a few things I’ve been mulling over.

  1. Fall Equinox Brings Kali & The Burning of the Old Self via dear soul, actress, and activist Michelle Thrush
  2. Anaak – Escape via dear soul & artist Stephanie Kuse
  3. The Aesthetic Language of Pina Bausch via AnOther
  4. Gender is Not a Spectrum via dear soul & artist Annette Marie Nedlienka
  5. Warpaint’s new release Heads Up
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5x where my heart is

Another list of things that have touched my heart like a spark plug to the thunder bolt.

  1. Maurice Sendak final interview and where the title of this list comes from
  2. Werner Herzog on Creativity, Self-Reliance, and How to Make a Living Doing What You Love via Brain Pickings
  3. Stephen Colbert telling the story of how he met his wife via the wonderful Paige Lansky
  4. The Machine by Joey Comeau
  5. Glitter by respectfulchild 
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5x immunity

I’m lying in my bed, sick as a dog, thinking of how to get better. Dreaming  of all the things I’ve left unsaid I awoke with a frog in my throat several days ago. A suppressed immune system & overactive nervous system. My body is setting its own rhythm as seasons change. Unable to speak, a mandatory period of bed rest & reflection at the start of a voluntarily sober September. This is what I am musing on in my sick bed.

Enjoy

  1. Hunger Makes Me via my dear friend Charlie Peters, a poignant reflection on female appetite 
  2. For Men* Who Desperately Need Autonmy via Nora Samaran
  3. Legendary Ballerina Sylvie Gulliem Performs Sacred Monster via the lovely Ann Connors
  4. Dr. Gabor Mate – How Stress Causes Disease a talk from his research for When The Body Says No which I have been thinking about as my immune system & nervous system go haywire 
  5. The Real Reason Women Drink via my charming friend Sarah Etter
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5x

I’m lying in my bed, sick as a dog, thinking of how to get better. Dreaming  of all the things I’ve left unsaid I awoke with a frog in my throat several days ago. A suppressed immune system & overactive nervous system. My body is setting its own rhythm as seasons change. Unable to speak, a mandatory period of bed rest & reflection at the start of a voluntarily sober September. This is what I am musing on in my sick bed.

Enjoy

  1. Hunger Makes Me via my dear friend Charlie Peters, a poignant reflection on female appetite 
  2. For Men* Who Desperately Need Autonmy via Nora Samaran
  3. Legendary Ballerina Sylvie Gulliem Performs Sacred Monster via the lovely Ann Connors
  4. Dr. Gabor Mate – How Stress Causes Disease a talk from his research for When The Body Says No which I have been thinking about as my immune system & nervous system go haywire 
  5. The Real Reason Women Drink via my charming friend Sarah Etter
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