-=-namaste-=-

saturday, december 1

I have had a stuffed dog since I was about two (?)... His name is Bernard, and I'm not really sure when I got him. I do know that I don't really have any memories of not having him. He is still with me, and he is floppy and his nose is sideways and his whiskers are so matted down against his nose that you can't see them. His nose is flattened from years of me hugging him next to me as I slept or cried or watched a movie or read a book or laughed. He used to have a stain on his foot from a chili dog that I got at Stuckey's when my mom and i went to my aunt Lynn's new house for the first time in Birmingham. They had moved, and we got lost in my mom's little BMW. Once my brother put his nose in his mouth on a road trip in our big old family van with the shag carpet on the ceiling after my mom had given us about four Dramamine each trying to make us sleep, but we were WIRED. He shook his head around and growled like he was a dog, and i screamed and jerked Bernard from his clutches. Only Bernard's nose was halfway coming off, and there was this SHARP METAL BLADE inside of it. (Of course, what else would you put in a child's stuffed dog to hold the nose in place but a SHARP METAL BLADE). The blade must have peeled the whole roof of my brother's mouth off because he spit blood for what seemed like hours as I hunched over in the corner, hugging Bernard, and feeling guilty.

When my brother went to college, it nearly killed me. I had lost my best friend. The house was so quiet when we got back from taking him the six hours away that would seperate us for years. I went in his room. I needed Bernard. I went to find him in my stuff from the trip, and he wasn't there. I couldn't find him anywhere, and I remember sitting on the bottom step of our staircase and absolutely losing it. I was hugging my knees, a poor replacement for my soft floppy confidante, and rocking back and forth and howling that I needed Bernard. I was fourteen or fifteen years old. My mom frantically called the hotel where we had stayed and her sister as we had spent a night there as well. She did locate him at the Yeilding's house (my mom's sister's family), and they promptly sent him back to me. That moment when I realized that my brother was really gone was the hardest that I had faced in all of my fifteen years, and without Bernard, it was unbearable.

I was looking at Bernard this morning when i woke up next to mat with the rain pouring down. Bernard fits perfectly into my arms while I sleep, and as a result he is quite flattened. His eyes have lost their artificial shine, but they are radiant. They look out at me with wisdom and intimacy. He knows everything that has ever happened in my life. and he adores me as much as I adore him. He is one of my most valued possesions. I don't know what I would do if he were to disappear. He is my friend, and there is old love and unconditional acceptance inside him in place of stuffing.

11:01 AM 0 comments

thursday, november 29

This flash video about our endangered civil liberties is very moving... I don't know if it is the music or simply the very sad subject, but it gave me the goose bumps. Take a look, and if you feel so inclined take action. This is courtesy of the Act for Change division of our super long distance carrier, Working Assets
2:01 PM 0 comments

wednesday, november 28

Shocked into wakefulness by NPR... 5:30... After the initial rush of my heart as it adjusts to my standing posture, I remember. I love the early mornings.

The air comes crisp through the bathroom window as I turn on the shower. I fell asleep last night as you read to me from The Tao of Pooh, imitating Pooh and Piglet's voices. You held me tight when i woke you because of my nightmares. You warded off all other demons as our bodies curved together in the puzzle-piece fit that only we can make. The shower wakes my senses up: warm water, spicy herbal soap, astringent tea tree oil.

back in my pajamas. making coffee, my ritual... I walk past signs that you have put up everywhere that I go. "You are everything all at once." I breathe in the fullness of you as I look at you still asleep and peaceful.
Mornings, full of promise. Ripe with quiet energy. I thrive now. The day is new. I can begin again.
6:19 AM 0 comments

monday, november 26

Eveyone out there at work: click on this link and close your eyes for a few minutes. Focus on your breathing. Acutally complete each inhale and each exhale... ahhhh..... Feel oxygen nourish your bodies and souls. How often do you cut your breath off before it has finished completely inhaling or exhaling?> I do it all the time even though I try to be pretty aware of my breath.

Breathing has the power to completely change the state of one's body and mind. It's amazing really. Something that so many take for granted has such power.

I am so tired today. Sooooo tired. I mean, still in my pajamas at 3:30 tired. i just sat and took some deep breaths, slowing my mind, dropping in. The transformation is immediate and amazing. I am still tired but at peace with the low level of my energy today.

Breathe. breathe. breathe. Each one breath is a gift...
3:35 PM 0 comments

Ezra linked to this guy's weblog on his weblog, and now I am linking to it too because I love the way he writes and the design of his page. Screwing up so you don't have to..... is a humble, open, honest journal by some guy that I don't know from a blade of grass. That is the point!! This web journalling stuff is so amazing, and watching its progression and spread is phenomenal.

One person reads one thing and links to your site, and before you know it there is a huge community of people from all over the country reading each other's journals, commenting, spreading the word!!! This is how revolutions start. This can be a revolution of creative expression, of peace and emotion, of understanding those who are different from us at a deeper level. Reading where people come from in the things that they do and say.

I am looking at the world differently these days. Not everyone is such a stranger. People really are out there who are a lot like me in their perceptions of the world. Their stories are heartbreaking and of utmost importance. Their memories are sharp and hard and ringing in my head. Is the guy walking down the street with his dog and his coffee one of us? Is the jogger in the park?

This is huge. The potential is mind-blowing. Computers are becoming personal to me now where I used to kind of resent them for taking me away from "real life". For me, life becomes real when i write about it and share it. We are forming a community of people who can validate our own life experiences, perceptions, and just stupid stuff that we may post. It's a community of support and new ideas. Amazing times.
3:08 PM 0 comments

"For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness." ---- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Yesterday Matty and I rode the train home from LA. It was the first time that Mat had ridden a train as an adult and the second time for me. It was a completely full train. These fat, loud, inconsiderate people settled at the table right next to ours. They immediately started playing some loud dice-throwing game amongs hoots and hollers and inane comments thrown down the entire train to their cohorts, one of which had on a leopard-print shirt that could have been a bedspread and some logging company jacket with her name on it, much like a bowling team shirt or something. They started asking when does that bar open (this was at 9:45 am).

When the bar did open, they immediately waddled back and brought a plethora of Budweiser and white zinfandel over ice. They were quite literally screaming and laughing. A girl who had the misfortune of being at their table had to get up and leave as she was trying to study. They said,"She wanted to get away from us. hardee har har...". They guy next to us said, "A lot of people do actuallly."

They answered back with some kind of "we're here for fun too" comment, and continued yelling. Then their fat children started to waddle around them and they were telling them, "the people around us don't like us" real loud. Everyone was glaring at them. I thought that my eyes were just going to squint away I was giving them such an evil eye.

Anyway, I can't really explain the horribleness of the whole family. I am making them sound lovely compared to what they really were. The thing is, I was so busy being angry with them for the whole hour that they were there. Thank God, they got off the train after an hour. I was fuming. I was getting hot, sweating, squinting, sighing, making comments. They were in total control of me. I tried to go to my center. I pictured myself under an ocean of water and them as just some things on the surface making waves that didn't even touch me. I breathed. I closed my eyes. I tried to feel sorry for them. Nothing worked.

I realize now that I didn't really think to pray. I wonder if that would have worked? What do you do when you are consumed with hate and anger?

The rest of the train ride was so amazingly romantic and fun. more on that later
1:15 PM 0 comments

Thanksgiving day.
I woke up and started making pies in my pajamas... drinking coffee, beautiful day. Mat was having a meeting with (gasp!) the turkey... Rob calls, he's on his way over, can I get you a coffee? YEAH! decaf soy latte on the way... I know. What's the point of drinking a decaf soy latte? I like it, that's why!! Anyway, listening to good music, talking to my parents and my brother... missing them.

Jeff arrives. The guitars are out. music playing, pies baking. leaves of orange and red out of the window with clear blue skies... windows open, door open... the clamor of pots and pans in the yard as neighbors prepare to lay down feasts for their families and friends. Let's set up a table in the yard! beautiful blanket, flowers in a vase, bottle of wine, chairs, and guitar... My neighbor asks if we are having a hippy Thanksgiving... of course!!

Mat says the turkeys near being ready... getting out yesterday's projects -- stuffing, green beans, cranberry salad, asparagus casserole, corn bread... All prepared with love and awareness. Alone in my kitchen on a rainy day with music playing, I smelled each ingredient, marvelled at the colors that God paints things, thanked the farmers and the earth for providing this bounty of beautiful food.

candles are lit. champagne is poured. A blessing is said. beautiful Latin jazz playing softly... the sun is beginning to go down. The day has been alive, full of energy. Now we slow down and give thanks. We pray for those we love who are not with us... family in other places. friends who couldn't make it.

a sacred day. truly.

11:37 AM 0 comments