Why I love the Internet

There is so much drama, so much strife perceived in every day life. Each day an economic struggle. Every argument an insurmountable disagreement after which nothing will ever be the same. And like a whirlpool, all this flows over my head with overwhelming force, and I struggle and drown and get sucked down into the very heart of the maelstrom.

Winston Churchill spoke of his depression as a large black dog that haunted him, growling and stalking and keeping those he loved at bay. If Mr. Churchill was right, and my maelstrom image fits too, then it might be best to say that for the last week or so, I find myself at the bottom of a roaring ocean, flailing and drowning, with only a large black dog to hold on to... and he bites.

Then a Sunday afternoon comes along which has some spare time and a bright sun peeping past the clouds. The blue sky seems unreal in its electric vivacious coloring, and it glistens behind the Griffith Observatory in a shot any cinematographer would glory to claim for his own. I see all this, but only in passing, temporarily blinded by all the ocean water and dog hair in my eyes. I return to my apartment and do some homework, and access the web, to check accounts, and perhaps peek at a few blogs (a pastime I rarely get to indulge anymore.) And a without realizing it, a life preserver falls neatly draped around my shoulders as I read the words of my tribe.

It doesn't take much to find people who mourn their losses, who sink into despairs. You can find someone bitching in front of you in line at the grocery store.... but until the vast Internet and blogs became a part of my life, I often believed myself alone in trying to persevere. But you... wonderful people you... so many of you speak of hope and joy and invigoration. You have weathered hardships, and have tremendous moments of great doubt, but you keep stepping forward, and I really do love you for it.

It is so easy and so popular to become resigned. Those that try to move past it are often called blind, ignorant, naive. They are mocked by those who secretly covet their indomitable spirit. And that mockery, if well-timed, can suck the wind out of renewed sails and drown barely afloat hopes. (good lord my metaphors are all over the place today... and I'm rambling.) My point is that I have a hard time keeping going. I get lost. I get overwhelmed. Sometimes I tell myself to go on. Sometimes I hope for more, then feel foolish for doing so. But the Internet has shown me that I'm not alone in these courageous charges of perseverance. If anything, I have seen that not only are there many out there who trudge ever forward... but MANY who seem to do it better than I. Who have ideas I haven't tried and wells of energy I haven't tapped into. They comfort me and inspire me and after 30 minutes or so of reading, I find myself possessed by the need to be outside, smelling the air, fascinated by blue sky and overjoyed at the feel of the breeze. I see the beauty in dandelions that grow between cracks in the sidewalk, and I'm blown away by the sound of bird wings as a flock of pigeons take flight.

Thank you Internet. Thank you heart-filled bloggers who express hopes and fears so honestly. Thank you, my dear tribe, for hopeful words, beautiful pictures and communities full of courageous passions. You open me to inspiration.

Standing in a New Place, looking Forward

I've never been one to participate in politics. I'm not the girl you find in line at most polling places. I have little faith in our legislative and judicial systems, as they are currently practiced. My experience of politics has been 101 promises, 99 of which are broken (and one is reworded to exploit a built-in loophole). Why would I need to vote when I could get that sort of abuse from any number of previous relationships? Deeply ingrained in Generation-X cynicism, I embraced apathy... for it was easier than expressing and channeling the fury that our world's current state aroused within me.

And so, when the pre-presidential flurry began to spin, I tried to ignore it. ALthough I live with a man who has been working to support Obama since it was a grassroots campaign in Chicago, I tried to ignore it. I fought being won because in the end, it all comes down to one vivid and sometimes toxic emotion... hope.

Hope comes with strings attached. Strings of expectation. Expectations leave gaps and opportunities for disappointment, when they remain unmet. And so many times, they do.

Yet somehow, in all the chanting for change, a tiny seed of hope crept in. Small as it was, I did my best to avoid it, and not let it run any major decisions. I did however, find myself willing to vote, for the first time in a long time. Not only for the presidency, but for many state propositions that are important to me. I cast my ballot by mail, as I wasn't in the county during any open polling hours. And once the envelope was sealed, I didn't give it much thought. In fact, inundated with animals and education, I actually forgot several times that today was election day.

But as I killed time between evening classes, dining with a friend and seeing the first peek at the numbers, I felt an overwhelming stirring in my gut. I recognized it at once. The aching butterflies in my tummy were the twinges of hope, gnawed at by the fear of unmet expectations. Momentarily paralized, I did my best to push the news report and the quivering tingles aside, and focus on class.

Time passes, events roll forward whether you pay attention or not, and by the time I was in my car for the long ride home, McCain's concession speech was being aired. Driving east on the 118, tears rolled down my face. Me... my face... the face of a woman who until now has never much cared for election results, who avoids political discussions, and despises the bickering two-party system. Face to face with the fact that I was emotionally invested, I turned off my radio and came to terms with my unexpected reaction.

Can we? Really? Can we Change? Human beings are creatures of habit and radical turns of events have never been well embraced by society as a whole. The best of intentions can still be stymied by fillabustering and stalling. Worse yet, promises may not be kept.... best intentions might not be brought to the table. What then?

Hope. It terrifies me. But I cannot help but fill tonight with it. To let it float like smoke in the air, resonate like the final chord of a piano concerto. It hovers tangibly, waiting for expectations to be not only met, but embraced and bettered.

Yes We Can..... I certainly hope so.

Intentional Drowning

"Your body is drowning."

"What?" I asked, somewhat startled.

The soft Asian face tilted up towards me, her look pensive as she sought for the words to explain. "Your body...it is... drowning. Too much fluid. Is holding.... um, retaining."

Oh, yes... that. I'm retaining water. I'm bloated. Twas a combo of PMS, stress, and bizarre temperatures. And apparently, unknown to me, a great deal of extra mucus in my lungs and sinuses. Through the miracles of acupuncture and herbal teas, I've been draining profusely ever since. Breathing is easier, but my nose is still recovering from the repeated blowings and tissue wipes.

But it is her words that still stay with me. Drowning. I am drowning. Never has a diagnosis felt so right on the money.

Working two jobs can be overwhelming. And the teaching, although it is wonderful to experience, is growing in hours and demanding on the voice and body. I often feel that my most fierce doggie-paddle just barely keeps my head above the surface.

More than that, as of late, dreams and signs are filled with underwater images and icons. My long time love for mermaids has grown into a nearly obsessive fascination. I hear the sirens call me towards the rocks anytime I see their images (and I'm currently reading a fascinating book on the subject as well.) Octopi (octopuses?) are everywhere. Painted graffiti on the street, Discovery shows that happen to be on when I turn on the TV, books and fliers that chance to come across my desk. Even my dearest love (& subject of my first 6th grade research paper) Nessie has returned to my consciousness, lurking in the corners of my mind and popping up in unrelated conversations.

Until lately, I'd complained about feeling frozen or numb. My coven sister speculates that this new drowning sensation is merely the effects of the ice thaw.

Could that be it? Could it be that I'm coming through the winter of this endlessly long transition? Something in me broke in 2005, and I've not felt whole since. The experience has been 2 years of highs and lows and general angst without resolution, and I'd love to think that phase is finally wrapping-up. But drowning is an odd sensation. Not one of relief, but neither is it one of suffocation or panic. We breathed and lived in liquid within the womb. Is it possible to find that skill again, amidst a sea of uncertainty?

Water is essential

Water is affected by thought & intention

Water is in all life, all things

Water is the connection

I am mostly water

My world is mostly water

Can I sink into that, and find the way to live?

Glimmer at the end of the day

After another long slog through corporate red-tape and hypocrisy, an email made me remember how good it feels to be apart of 'making a difference'.

Watch the video. Share the Hope. Be a part of the change you want to see in the world.

Pouncing Anxiety

For more than half my life, my winters (specifically January and February) have been plagued with a diagnosed bout of depression. It hangs on, unwelcome, like the cloying scent of decay, and is terribly annoying to boot. My physical body aches and spasms, my sleep & eating patterns go out the window. I become irritable and moody.

Knowing that this is a biological cycle, I do what I can to fight it. Try to watch what I eat and drink, keep an eye on whether or not my response to any stimulator is ‘overly dramatic’ or otherwise unwarranted. I don’t like to think of myself as a depression “sufferer” but more one who trudges through the slime and muck and arrives eventually on the other side.

However, in the last few years, my winter visitor has come hand in hand with a new friend, Paranoia. I find myself questioning motivation for each comment addressed to me, as well as constantly checking myself in the mirror for what may have gone horribly wrong since last look. (and yes, I'm speaking of something more than just fresh zits or spinach in my teeth.) Each car behind me is either ‘undercover police’ or ‘intentionally harassing me’. Hang ups on the phone are stalkers trying to find me. Each ache and pain is sign and symptom of some incurable malady. My emails are being monitored; my bank account is being secretly hacked. It’s hell on my nerves, and even more of a drain on the folks around me.

*sigh*

BUT… even in the darkness, there are moments of light and joy. Just last weekend, Tag and I decided to celebrate his birthday with a visit to our local zoo. It was rainy and cold, and thus there were few folks meandering about. We headed to the snow leopard cage, hoping that the darkened winter weather would have aroused them from their usual mid-day slumber. Sure enough, they were not only alert and out in the open, they were in the mood to play. Upon hearing us approach, one of the young males climbed to a vantage point in his habitat and readied a pounce. Seeing him, I dove behind a bush and rustled the dry leaves on the ground. Intrigued, we watched each other for a moment before I sprang out and ran down the path. Inside his enclosure, he ran the corresponding length of his cage. I doubled back and so did he, and when we reached our starting point, I flopped slightly sideways in submission, and he did similarly, with a big cat “chuff”, clearly proud of himself.

The moment lightened my spirit and reminded me that this life I’m currently living…. 9 – 5 at a desk 5 days a week, is not one that I’m truly meant for. I need outside time and interaction with animals. I want to attend school again, and move forward in a way that feels so fitting. I want to talk with the animals, walk with the animals… play hard and live big. Perhaps when I finally fully inhabit the life I’m intended for, these winter doldrums will ease their hold on me.

Living is achieved in the same way that depression is conquered- one day at a time. Moving ever forward, not sitting and waiting it out. Fighting and winning small battles each day. Getting up and getting dressed, when you really just want to pull the covers over your head. *sigh* WOW… this little pep talk is nauseating even me.

What can I say? It’s January, almost February… and I’ve never really liked that time of year. I’m grouchy and nasty-tempered, in pain and in a lousy mood. However, I remain ever thankful for a love that stands beside me, and pouncy moments at the zoo.

Peace out my lovlies.... go do something fun with your day!

Ebb & Flow

Change comes rapidly, like a swift Autumn wind. Faster than the seasons can shift, faster than I can keep up. As John Lennon sang: “Life is what happens to you when while you're busy making other plans.”

*pause, to catch my breath*

Although co-habitation can be challenging, Tag and I grow ever closer. However, sometimes it is for unfortunate reasons. Just last weekend, we shared the heartbreak of losing a pet. Brave Neo, who traveled with Tag from Chicago, died inexplicably, leaving the bulk of our Saturday mired in impromptu services in the nearby park. This, added to the sadness of my Grandmother’s passing, has left me pondering the “dark time” and all its hidden gifts.

Traditionally, Samhain is the festival that marks the “End of Summer”, or the time of the Harvest. One tradition states that you could harvest until sundown on Hallows Eve, but not a moment longer. Whatever was not cut by that sunset, you left in the field as an offering to the spirits. From that moment, you could only look forward to the next harvest season; making productive use of what had been brought in, and sowing the seeds for the following year.

During this last season or so, friends have fallen away, life has run at speeds both hectic and humdrum, and of course, love has come to play.

For each birth there has been a death. For each Spring blossom that bloomed, an Autumn leaf fell to ground. Sadness and loss weigh heavy right now, as the days grow shorter and darker. I’ve been battling moments of anger and despair. Last night, in dance class, I found myself weeping, in a dimly lit room pulsating with music and life. I felt like I was a great black hole of energy, absorbing joy and transmuting it into nothingness.

My mood is lighter today, although not completely recovered. My thoughts are scattered and this post is challenging to write. However, underneath it all, I still feel a smidgeon of hope bubbling up through the goop-- the ever-present idea that it does once again get better, that wounds heal, and lessons get learned and at the end of the day, as long as one can surround themselves with friends and loved ones…. it’s gonna be ok.

Permission to feel Joy now Granted

In a little under 12 hours, I go to meet my love at the airport. In 24 hours, we will be on our way to an island getaway. Butterflies in my stomach, bounce in my step, the tremendous urge to close my eyes and dream.

The practical side of my brain screams that the house is a mess; dishes not done, trash in the cans. My hair is not the color I was hoping for. My eldest cat seems to have gotten ear mites. The weather is still unbearably hot.

Despite a million little pinpricks in the balloon, I cannot be deflated though. I continue to glide and twirl and spin- a combination ballroom tango dancer and giddy 4-yr old girl.

And even as I type this, a voice inside says “Oh… *scoff* that’s just silly.”

And another cries out “Hush up! It’s OK to feel this way!!! ”

I don’t want to stay on task today. I want to eat cupcakes and giggle. I want to dress up girlie.

I want to brush my hair 100 times until it shines, and then put on my favorite lip gloss. Paint my nails pink, and spin till my skirt flies out like a tutu.



If the me from a year ago ran into the me today, she’d simultaneously mock me and envy me. OH how far have we come!

And yet, as happy as I am, I have to keep reminding myself…. “it’s OK to feel this way!!” strange huh? How our brains will fight against joy. What is that, and where does it come from?

Do you ever have days where you’re scared to be excited? Do you ever stop the free flowing stream of bliss, because you’re not sure it’s yours? And if so…. How do you stop that? How do you open your heart and allow…. no… “Permit”… give permission to yourself to feel amazing?

Apparently… I blog. And having done this, I’m now going release anything attempting to block my happiness. I’m going to open my arms wide and embrace this bouncy glowing feeling, just as I will embrace my dearest tonight at the airport. *grin*

Sometimes My Tries are Outside the Lines

Picture me in a house with no lights on, soaking in salts blessed in ritual, doing what my friends call "the bathtub cry." A safe place when tears can sink into suds and no one knows the wiser. Looking at my life and wondering just how many mistakes one can cram in to 34 years of living.

Makes it a little hard to just get up and keep going the next morning, I tell ya.

And then on the ride in, I hear a song. Oh, I've heard it before....dozens of times. It's LA radio, they play the same 25 songs in constant rotation. However, today, I caught it right at the beginning, and it spoke to me, silly as it is....and as I pulled into the garage at work, I was singing along, rejuvinated (and just a little bit hopeful) once more.

"Unwritten"

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined

I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you

Open up the dirty window

Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance

So close you can almost taste it

Release your inhibitions

Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you

Only you can let it in

No one else, no one else

Can speak the words on your lips

Drench yourself in words unspoken

Live your life with arms wide open

Today is where your book begins

The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition,

sometimes my tries are outside the lines

We've been conditioned to not make mistakes,

but I can't live that way

(chorus)

Swirly-gig of life, energy and the pursuit of good food

Life is a roller coaster, is it not?

Busy- ness prevails right now, between 3 jobs and dance class and band rehersal and the fact that i know a TON of Leos, and thus have many birthday gatherings to attend to. Add into that other social occasions, conversations with friends, lunches with co-workers (or lunches with co-workers who are friends and thus filled with aformentioned conversation). Tonight is wine club with the DW's, Sunday the band has a show. All the while i shuttle back and forth between my house and the one in Van Nuys, caring for 5 kitties and a buttload of plants.

but beyond all that, there are moments of sitting, and smiling, and life being very good.

oh sure, i have my moments of painful interactions, miscommunications. They hurt and bother me, but they don't win out. I still have the sound of Amandarin's laughter in my ears as she told me about her fabulous birthday dinner with her reconciled honey. I can see Dreamschool's grin as she listened to live music played at her behest last Friday. I remember the peace of listening to crickets in the backyard full of plants under my care. I look forward to CamShazam's smile tonight at Wine Club. And kitty nuzzles... lots of kitty nuzzles, no matter what house i'm at. (bad grammar, don't care)

Top that with the fact that in the last 36 hours i have had sushi and sake at my favorite Sushi restuarant, Ravioli and mojitos at my favorite local resturant, and a delish gyros for lunch at the perfect "fast Greek food" place near work. I am full and sastfied, in tummy and in soul.

Nil illigitimi non carborundum

(or more accurately Noli nothis permittere te terere.)

Either way, the point is

they do not get to win.