1. I am immensely intellectually insecure. Not a day goes by when I don't fear that I’m not as bright as my peers. (That's THREE negatives in one sentence!)
2. Rainy days are my favorite (it’s the positive ions).
3. I will work for a few years more and then move to the west and build a commune.
4. I hope that everyone in my family will come with me.
5. The human spirit flounders when it feels as if its not being put to good (and noble) use; a bad job can kill you.
6. I am afraid that I have a bad job…
7. I can’t really conceive of paid work that would be noble.
8. This is why I have the commune idea; become self-sustaining and you don’t need to work!
9. This weekend I will make a large batch of bread.
10. Once, in Olympia, I hit a yuppie couple’s car with my bike in a grocery parking lot. They were nearby and FREAKED OUT at me, and I cried. People in the parking lot came up to me afterwards to offer their solidarity and support. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that worthless as a human.
11. And I’ve always blamed Kevin for it – cause he wouldn’t go to the store.
12. People frighten me because of their intolerance and cruelty and selfishness.
13. I think that Europeans are heading in the right direction.
14. When I go to concerts or public events I get terrified that I’ll run up onstage and do something totally embarrassing. Hasn’t happened yet.
15. I wish I could show my older sis how much I respect her.
16. Sometimes I wonder if my parents married the wrong people.
17. I never wonder if I have.
18. I would like to be remembered in the history books for initiating the repeal of the electoral college.
19. I am SO SCARED of November 2nd.
20. I have a Jurgis-like desire to take on the suffering of those whom I love, so that they might benefit by this life.
29.10.04
Easy to spot the Americans
they're the ones wearing the flag.
I just realized, for the first time today, that community contains the word unity. Silly, but true.
Hard to come back, gotta get up to get down, yeah? Like a scene from Alice in Wonderland, my office looked so incredibly small when I came to it, and for a second I worried that I wouldn’t fit in it. And became dizzy.
Ireland is: florescent green fields, cattle meticulously chewing cud, goats mashing their teeth together, rain, crashing ocean waves breaking against sheer cliffs, stone walls, castles, forts built right after Jesus, cheese, milk, bread, tea, jam, warmth, kindness, frenetic pedestrians, farm machinery on narrow roads, napping construction workers, wind, ocean air, red cheeks, the ocean, the ocean.
Hard to come back. My plan for the future: learn French whilst Padraig learns German, and Emily perfects Russian. In a few years travel, travel. Hop around to a few Vipassana centers, meditate, learn, grow. Then onward! to the commune and self sustainability. The end of work which drains the body and mind.
My battery is recharged and my goal is to live a life which I respect. Onward, then! To victory, to a mind which doesn’t regret, and doesn’t grieve.
I just realized, for the first time today, that community contains the word unity. Silly, but true.
Hard to come back, gotta get up to get down, yeah? Like a scene from Alice in Wonderland, my office looked so incredibly small when I came to it, and for a second I worried that I wouldn’t fit in it. And became dizzy.
Ireland is: florescent green fields, cattle meticulously chewing cud, goats mashing their teeth together, rain, crashing ocean waves breaking against sheer cliffs, stone walls, castles, forts built right after Jesus, cheese, milk, bread, tea, jam, warmth, kindness, frenetic pedestrians, farm machinery on narrow roads, napping construction workers, wind, ocean air, red cheeks, the ocean, the ocean.
Hard to come back. My plan for the future: learn French whilst Padraig learns German, and Emily perfects Russian. In a few years travel, travel. Hop around to a few Vipassana centers, meditate, learn, grow. Then onward! to the commune and self sustainability. The end of work which drains the body and mind.
My battery is recharged and my goal is to live a life which I respect. Onward, then! To victory, to a mind which doesn’t regret, and doesn’t grieve.
13.10.04
cadbury egg
i have this feeling inside that i sometimes get around holidays. it's that feeling of immense anticipation, excitement, nervousness and it's countered by feelings of dissapointment, this feeling that it won't be as good as you crave it to be. the highs lose their peaks, the valleys lose their depths, the extremes start to resemble each other. is this bad or good, i have not yet decided.
probably neither, it just is.
however. emily is my hero. i have been noticing, these past two days, how absolutely and completely intellectually insecure i am. he starts talking and i begin to worry... try to formulate an answer and i feel like a baboon just making noises. why, why? let me go back to my corner to pick the bugs from my fur. then she opens her mouth and what comes out is coherent, intelligent, real, spoken not just for the answering, but because these are things that need to be said. and i am immensely jealous! las palabras son poemas cuándo hablado por ella.
soy muy feliz cuándo somos es tonto. cuándo todo hacemos es la risa y nada es grave.
what is it that we lose through growing up, which innocence is it that we subjugate? i don't want to believe in samsara, i don't want to let my brain think that people have what they have because of karma. i am fortunate for having such a family, of people whom i love dearly, am fiercely protective of, am perhaps, overly attached to. everytime someone comes in here, with a horrible story, with a crippling problem, i think, "this could be emily. this could be mom or dad in a few years, libby. this could be me too." i remember going to this clinic in olympia when i had a uti. i had no money, no insurance, no self-esteem. the doctor was a young female yuppi with a tommy hilfiger turtleneck on and perfectly manicured hair. i felt worse than nothing. i felt like my presence was negative, you know? like i was taking something from her by being there. i want to reach out to me, in that exam room, and remind her how important she is. how much intrinsic worth there is in life, even if it is mostly struggle.
i will make an enclave of like-minded people, we will separate ourselves from these cycles of living. live from the earth, make our rythmn match the ground, the trees, the wind. no power, no loss, solamente la gente, guapo y feo, joven y viejo, todos, todos, todos son uno.
probably neither, it just is.
however. emily is my hero. i have been noticing, these past two days, how absolutely and completely intellectually insecure i am. he starts talking and i begin to worry... try to formulate an answer and i feel like a baboon just making noises. why, why? let me go back to my corner to pick the bugs from my fur. then she opens her mouth and what comes out is coherent, intelligent, real, spoken not just for the answering, but because these are things that need to be said. and i am immensely jealous! las palabras son poemas cuándo hablado por ella.
soy muy feliz cuándo somos es tonto. cuándo todo hacemos es la risa y nada es grave.
what is it that we lose through growing up, which innocence is it that we subjugate? i don't want to believe in samsara, i don't want to let my brain think that people have what they have because of karma. i am fortunate for having such a family, of people whom i love dearly, am fiercely protective of, am perhaps, overly attached to. everytime someone comes in here, with a horrible story, with a crippling problem, i think, "this could be emily. this could be mom or dad in a few years, libby. this could be me too." i remember going to this clinic in olympia when i had a uti. i had no money, no insurance, no self-esteem. the doctor was a young female yuppi with a tommy hilfiger turtleneck on and perfectly manicured hair. i felt worse than nothing. i felt like my presence was negative, you know? like i was taking something from her by being there. i want to reach out to me, in that exam room, and remind her how important she is. how much intrinsic worth there is in life, even if it is mostly struggle.
i will make an enclave of like-minded people, we will separate ourselves from these cycles of living. live from the earth, make our rythmn match the ground, the trees, the wind. no power, no loss, solamente la gente, guapo y feo, joven y viejo, todos, todos, todos son uno.
12.10.04
afternoon sketch
No quiero ser dificil.
Soy una mujer;
no puedo ser dificil.
Quiero fumar, y
no pienso acerca de la futura.
El mar.
La sol.
Las estrellas en el cielo,
las montanas.
Mi cabeza tiene sueno.
Pesado,
lento.
Soy una mujer;
no puedo ser dificil.
Quiero fumar, y
no pienso acerca de la futura.
El mar.
La sol.
Las estrellas en el cielo,
las montanas.
Mi cabeza tiene sueno.
Pesado,
lento.
la gente
I am beginning to realize that there are two separate forces influencing my actions here at work. The first is completely destructive, rebellious, and angry. It visualizes the extremes of the polemic domestic policy that has been honed through years of corruption and manipulation. This system that makes it impossible (through a series of complex mental and physical inferiority complexes and stigmas) for the poor to rise up out of their shame, their devastating poverty. Debilitating because we live in a society which values wealth over morality, material status over spiritual progression. The American Dream is a lie and an insult to everyone breaking their backs everyday to put food on their tables. The American Dream is such a myth that when it actually happens, it receives national news coverage. It serves only as a means to further polarize the gap between have and have-not; what the reporters don’t report, but what is implied, is that the reason the poor are poor is because they are lazy. It is their fault, they are somehow (perhaps even morally) inferior to people who have money, who are contributing to this society.
Like grease in the gears we’re making the cogs turn.
The other influence is the complete opposite of the above, and it is making my brain hemorrhage. I grew up in this society; I am a part of it. I have so much mental stigma, programmed-in thought habit-patterns. So every time that I see a new client, or an old client, there is part of me that goes along with the system and puts 100% of the burden of their situation back on them. What have you done wrong, how have you screwed it up for yourself? Why can’t you just get a job and buck up? Pull yourself up by your bootstraps? I sometimes hate myself for having these thoughts. (Granted, I think it’s also likely that I have these angry thoughts because I am really unable to give the clients any type of meaningful assistance. So my limitations make me mad and I throw it back out on those around me.)
Can you imagine growing up poor? Living on government surplus food, always feeling like a criminal, like you had done something utterly horrible by taking birth. Can you imagine outgrowing a stigma as societally incapacitating as that?
Con liberdad y justicia por todos…
Like grease in the gears we’re making the cogs turn.
The other influence is the complete opposite of the above, and it is making my brain hemorrhage. I grew up in this society; I am a part of it. I have so much mental stigma, programmed-in thought habit-patterns. So every time that I see a new client, or an old client, there is part of me that goes along with the system and puts 100% of the burden of their situation back on them. What have you done wrong, how have you screwed it up for yourself? Why can’t you just get a job and buck up? Pull yourself up by your bootstraps? I sometimes hate myself for having these thoughts. (Granted, I think it’s also likely that I have these angry thoughts because I am really unable to give the clients any type of meaningful assistance. So my limitations make me mad and I throw it back out on those around me.)
Can you imagine growing up poor? Living on government surplus food, always feeling like a criminal, like you had done something utterly horrible by taking birth. Can you imagine outgrowing a stigma as societally incapacitating as that?
Con liberdad y justicia por todos…
11.10.04
Earthquake.
I get this stubborn pressure in my head, bullheaded like how I used to want to be, sometimes trying to make a situation harder than it needs to be so that everyone will make a big wide space for me. I do exist and I am important, dammit. I get this really subtle, quiet and violent anger welling up in my throat and eyes, it wants to make itself known somehow, in some small way. Get out of my way, get out of the way.
Things never turn out the way you plan them. Something comes into my hands and I mess it up in an effort to declare that I am alive, breathing, existing like all the rest of everybody everywhere. This is how I feel. This is what I am feeling today.
Jane, at Vipassana, told me this story about her boyfriend. He was walking down the bridge of flowers with a teacher-couple and their young son. The son darted away from the parents, straight to a flowerpot, dug his hands into the soil and started unearthing the stems and blossoms. The father was furious, and reproached the young son for his destructive outburst. Jane’s boyfriend quickly nosed in, and suggested to the upset father that perhaps the son wasn’t acting out in an effort to destroy – perhaps he was simply trying to make his mark on something, anything. “I exist and I can prove it by changing something, by having an effect on something. It is different than it was before, and the difference is because of me.” Yes, yes. That’s what I’ve been doing lately.
But my flowerpots have been people and my unearthing has not been of blossoms and stems, but of emotions and awkwardness. You will know that I am here because I will give you no choice. You will squirm and be angry and feel uncomfortable and remember that I affected you. Stupid, stupid life sometimes.
But, I’m meditating and I’m working through it. (I can still be kind, compassionate, it really all depends lately.)
Reading: CHE, his biography.
Viewing: Rupert Murdoch’s War on Journalism.
Listening to: Sean Lennon.
These influences are all conspiring to make me one angry, angry Putchie.
(I am getting married this weekend.)
Things never turn out the way you plan them. Something comes into my hands and I mess it up in an effort to declare that I am alive, breathing, existing like all the rest of everybody everywhere. This is how I feel. This is what I am feeling today.
Jane, at Vipassana, told me this story about her boyfriend. He was walking down the bridge of flowers with a teacher-couple and their young son. The son darted away from the parents, straight to a flowerpot, dug his hands into the soil and started unearthing the stems and blossoms. The father was furious, and reproached the young son for his destructive outburst. Jane’s boyfriend quickly nosed in, and suggested to the upset father that perhaps the son wasn’t acting out in an effort to destroy – perhaps he was simply trying to make his mark on something, anything. “I exist and I can prove it by changing something, by having an effect on something. It is different than it was before, and the difference is because of me.” Yes, yes. That’s what I’ve been doing lately.
But my flowerpots have been people and my unearthing has not been of blossoms and stems, but of emotions and awkwardness. You will know that I am here because I will give you no choice. You will squirm and be angry and feel uncomfortable and remember that I affected you. Stupid, stupid life sometimes.
But, I’m meditating and I’m working through it. (I can still be kind, compassionate, it really all depends lately.)
Reading: CHE, his biography.
Viewing: Rupert Murdoch’s War on Journalism.
Listening to: Sean Lennon.
These influences are all conspiring to make me one angry, angry Putchie.
(I am getting married this weekend.)
7.10.04
last night
I remember waking in the middle of the night last night, and having my mortality strike me like a ton of bricks. I was on my stomach, tangled in the sheets, and I couldn’t shake the idea that I was going to die. Not die in an immediate sense, but, inevitably, I would one day die because one day I had taken birth. The body that I inhabit would one day disintegrate back into the earth. I would leave everyone that I know. Everything that I know. I would cease to be. My heart kept palpitating, I got hot, and I was really, horribly frightened. Someday everyone that I know will also be dead. We’re like walking time bombs, in a way.
And Vipassana struck me as being so incredibly important. Oh my god. How to find a way to approach death with peace, with wonder, with reverence. Not this emotionally adolescent terror.
Can we accept death while we’re young? Healthy? Vibrant? I don’t know…
I just remember thinking over and over that my body would cease to function. That it would stop working, it would decay, it would fade. As if my consciousness would somehow, because of the lack of a body, be trapped in a kind of Hades forever. So incredibly silly. That it would hurt, that it would be painful, horrible, bloody, excruciating.
Someday I will die and someone will read this, and know that I am dead. And it will all seem so strange, such a remotely familiar fear…
And Vipassana struck me as being so incredibly important. Oh my god. How to find a way to approach death with peace, with wonder, with reverence. Not this emotionally adolescent terror.
Can we accept death while we’re young? Healthy? Vibrant? I don’t know…
I just remember thinking over and over that my body would cease to function. That it would stop working, it would decay, it would fade. As if my consciousness would somehow, because of the lack of a body, be trapped in a kind of Hades forever. So incredibly silly. That it would hurt, that it would be painful, horrible, bloody, excruciating.
Someday I will die and someone will read this, and know that I am dead. And it will all seem so strange, such a remotely familiar fear…
29.9.04
28.9.04
if i could only remember.
Do not disturb thyself by thinking of the whole of thy life. Let not thy thoughts at once embrace all the various troubles which thou mayest expect to befall thee: but on every occasion ask thyself, What is there in this which is intolerable and past bearing? For thou wilt be ashamed to confess. In the next place remember that neither the future nor the past pains thee, but only the present.
today, this morning, there is a nervousness which wells inside, just on the verge of spilling out, a drop more and my bucket will overflow. bricks and mortar, leaves and bark, dirt, mulch, pea gravel, and a few dandelion weeds. outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the science center, a poplar tree lets go of a giant's handful of leaves, in one grand gesture, and it looks like an auburn snow storm. so beautiful that my mind wants to dismiss it as an hallucination. we have so little time that we don't even know how little we have! too little to be spent in an office? so little that it should be spent outside as much as possible? [drop by drop, i start to overflow]
a breath in
a long breath out...
the idea of a future
which contains
harmony
is misleading.
the only harmony
that remains attainable to we humans
is
the one
which dwells
in the present.
and now, with a twich of my nose and a wink of my eye, i must go back to work. (but the walk should be lovely!)
today, this morning, there is a nervousness which wells inside, just on the verge of spilling out, a drop more and my bucket will overflow. bricks and mortar, leaves and bark, dirt, mulch, pea gravel, and a few dandelion weeds. outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the science center, a poplar tree lets go of a giant's handful of leaves, in one grand gesture, and it looks like an auburn snow storm. so beautiful that my mind wants to dismiss it as an hallucination. we have so little time that we don't even know how little we have! too little to be spent in an office? so little that it should be spent outside as much as possible? [drop by drop, i start to overflow]
a breath in
a long breath out...
the idea of a future
which contains
harmony
is misleading.
the only harmony
that remains attainable to we humans
is
the one
which dwells
in the present.
and now, with a twich of my nose and a wink of my eye, i must go back to work. (but the walk should be lovely!)
27.9.04
monday feels like wednesday.
my sister is gone and i miss her. a void i want to fill. monday, back to work day, slogging through the paperwork day, but somehow it feels like the middle of the week. mired down by responsibilities, by deadlines, by nothing in particular but the feet hit the pavement with much gravity today. a complaint that i lodge with the future: people need to be more proactive with their lives, with the direction that they wish to move. (i do not exclude myself.)
the leaves are changing color.
i went for an amazing run last night. it was late, dark, cold, the houses each had a light on, in kitchens, in living rooms, in soon-to-be-dark bedrooms. rainbow colored leaves lined the streets and curb lawns, giving off a cinnamon-like musky fragrance. i could hear them chasing after me as I ran past, the scuttle of their brittle edges coming back into contact with the pavement, the scraping as they gave up their pursuit. and I never stopped to look, never even thought to stop. my feet too busy to pause, in their own piston-like endurance test, eating up the street, the lawns, the sandstone sidewalks, the cold, the marrow of what binds the city together. i felt trapped inside the catcher in the rye, the final run of clarity before the calamity of indecision sets in.
am working on creating more moments of clarity.
the leaves are changing color.
i went for an amazing run last night. it was late, dark, cold, the houses each had a light on, in kitchens, in living rooms, in soon-to-be-dark bedrooms. rainbow colored leaves lined the streets and curb lawns, giving off a cinnamon-like musky fragrance. i could hear them chasing after me as I ran past, the scuttle of their brittle edges coming back into contact with the pavement, the scraping as they gave up their pursuit. and I never stopped to look, never even thought to stop. my feet too busy to pause, in their own piston-like endurance test, eating up the street, the lawns, the sandstone sidewalks, the cold, the marrow of what binds the city together. i felt trapped inside the catcher in the rye, the final run of clarity before the calamity of indecision sets in.
am working on creating more moments of clarity.
24.9.04
saccharine
i want to believe in the base goodness of human nature. i want to believe that people are capable of kindness, compassion, fellowship. this past week has been a long test of my faith, a Job-like endurance trial. people have been filing there protests in my skin, just underneath the surface, like a splinter that only penetrates deeper when you try to dig it out. oh and i have become tired...
so many recent memories swirling about in my shadow-box brain, but one has pinned itself to the front, and i can't shake it. she had a cold brightness like a flourescent lightbulb, illuminating all of the imperfections in the flesh of those underneath its glare. smiling, bubbling, winning. sweet like a saccharine that causes cancer, undetected. and the fakeness of her ebullience terrified me and i became so angry. i remembered Babbit, and the Rotary Club, and Farenheit 451 and there was a violent quaking inside, where my faith sleeps. maybe we are a pestilence, maybe i am waking up to what's real -- falsity. feigned satisfaction, and plagiarised wisdom. emotions that have been bastardized. we, perhaps, are a nation of standardized test results.
there's a storm inside ripping off the roof and i've chained myself to the floor joists for safety. i am not ready to be sucked into the havoc of cynicism, of a pessimistic world view.
i need a period
of silence.
where the phones stop ringing
and there are no clients
with no emergencies.
i need to
rethink
this thing,
life.
so many recent memories swirling about in my shadow-box brain, but one has pinned itself to the front, and i can't shake it. she had a cold brightness like a flourescent lightbulb, illuminating all of the imperfections in the flesh of those underneath its glare. smiling, bubbling, winning. sweet like a saccharine that causes cancer, undetected. and the fakeness of her ebullience terrified me and i became so angry. i remembered Babbit, and the Rotary Club, and Farenheit 451 and there was a violent quaking inside, where my faith sleeps. maybe we are a pestilence, maybe i am waking up to what's real -- falsity. feigned satisfaction, and plagiarised wisdom. emotions that have been bastardized. we, perhaps, are a nation of standardized test results.
there's a storm inside ripping off the roof and i've chained myself to the floor joists for safety. i am not ready to be sucked into the havoc of cynicism, of a pessimistic world view.
i need a period
of silence.
where the phones stop ringing
and there are no clients
with no emergencies.
i need to
rethink
this thing,
life.
22.9.04
afternoon meditation
Begin the morning by saying to thyself, I shall meet with the busy-body, the ungrateful, arrogant, deceitful, envious, unsocial. All these things happen to them by reason of their ignorance of what is good and evil. But I who have seen the nature of the good that it is beautiful, and of the bad that it is ugly, and the nature of him who does wrong, that it is akin to me, not only of the same blood or seed, but that it participates in the same intelligence and the same portion of the divinity, I can neither be injured by any of them, for no one can fix on me what is ugly, nor can I be angry with my kinsman, nor hate him, For we are made for co-operation, like feet, like hands, like eyelids, like the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act against one another then is contrary to nature; and it is acting against one another to be vexed and to turn away.
birthday booty
and i had been waiting for so long! i contemplated sitting on the front steps all night, just to watch the waterproofed action when the morning dew hit. yes, that's right, i am the proud owner of one of the finest rain jackets made:
i almost wish that it wasn't such a clear day...
and another talk will be given by me tonight. but this time i'll be joined by two other women, and i go last. they're planning on 100 students showing up, but i can't suppress my cynicism. it's hard to get students to show up! especially when an event is two hours long! especially when it's not required! whatever, whenever, wherever, we'll see... what will i do, i will print out my speech, arrive a little early, and observe. i was halfway thinking of making the audience do some asanas before i get going, get the blood flowing, reconnect the synaptic gaps.
last night at dinner i kept secretly staring at my grandmother. accross the table. from time to time should would put her forehead in her hands and let out a big sigh. half of me would panic and think, "this is it, she's dying" while the other half would remain in silent contemplation. she is so unhappy. she is lonely and old and slowly becoming immobile and it all genuinely terrifies her. i wonder if she has ever thought about death, at least in the abstract. i hope so, i hope so. i was watching her and at one point i started generating loving-kindness for her, an autonomic function of the soul. may you be happy, may you be liberated from your suffering, may you be peaceful...
in the book i'm reading, marcus aurelius is mentioned, in passing, as someone who no one has read, but who is widely regarded as a radical. it made me smile. the societal deviance of living a moral life. how far we have come, yes?
i almost wish that it wasn't such a clear day...
and another talk will be given by me tonight. but this time i'll be joined by two other women, and i go last. they're planning on 100 students showing up, but i can't suppress my cynicism. it's hard to get students to show up! especially when an event is two hours long! especially when it's not required! whatever, whenever, wherever, we'll see... what will i do, i will print out my speech, arrive a little early, and observe. i was halfway thinking of making the audience do some asanas before i get going, get the blood flowing, reconnect the synaptic gaps.
last night at dinner i kept secretly staring at my grandmother. accross the table. from time to time should would put her forehead in her hands and let out a big sigh. half of me would panic and think, "this is it, she's dying" while the other half would remain in silent contemplation. she is so unhappy. she is lonely and old and slowly becoming immobile and it all genuinely terrifies her. i wonder if she has ever thought about death, at least in the abstract. i hope so, i hope so. i was watching her and at one point i started generating loving-kindness for her, an autonomic function of the soul. may you be happy, may you be liberated from your suffering, may you be peaceful...
in the book i'm reading, marcus aurelius is mentioned, in passing, as someone who no one has read, but who is widely regarded as a radical. it made me smile. the societal deviance of living a moral life. how far we have come, yes?
21.9.04
september 21, 1979.
today on my walk to work
there was construction resuming in the southeast quadrant somewhere. bulldozers awakening, jackhammers wrenched from their mechanical slumber, hardened men and women in bright orange vests drinking coffee and indulging in their first cigarettes of the day. the cacophony created by their movements, both human and machine, sounded like a crazy robot jug-band, and i was surprised at how melodious it had become by the time it reached my ears. actually, i think i caught a glimpse of the evil-robot phone lurking in the morning shadows, bending all of the sounds to its will, creating a song for our birthday.
so, today is indeed our birthday. and the vernal equinox. tomorrow autumn will officially begin. today i am a quarter century old! that's not very old at all... by my age my parents had been married for a year. mom had libby already. by my age nana was alone raising bobbi, because frank z was in germany fighting a war. by my age my grandfather was fighting a war!
sigh.
i will go. open my window, let the cold air in, finish my first cup of coffee. the sounds are gone, but the magic of the day still remains...
there was construction resuming in the southeast quadrant somewhere. bulldozers awakening, jackhammers wrenched from their mechanical slumber, hardened men and women in bright orange vests drinking coffee and indulging in their first cigarettes of the day. the cacophony created by their movements, both human and machine, sounded like a crazy robot jug-band, and i was surprised at how melodious it had become by the time it reached my ears. actually, i think i caught a glimpse of the evil-robot phone lurking in the morning shadows, bending all of the sounds to its will, creating a song for our birthday.
so, today is indeed our birthday. and the vernal equinox. tomorrow autumn will officially begin. today i am a quarter century old! that's not very old at all... by my age my parents had been married for a year. mom had libby already. by my age nana was alone raising bobbi, because frank z was in germany fighting a war. by my age my grandfather was fighting a war!
sigh.
i will go. open my window, let the cold air in, finish my first cup of coffee. the sounds are gone, but the magic of the day still remains...
20.9.04
late summer.
The sound of a distant highway, out-of-sight cars winding their way to sleepy destinations, the rhythm of an invisible train breaking through the silence of my morning walk to work. Brisk morning. Clear blue sky above, not even so much as a frozen cirrus cloud breaking up the azure. Sun rising above the tree line on my left, creating a bas-relief of shadow and glow. Frost-looking droplets of cold dew on rigid green blades of grass, fighting to stave off the drooping chill. And high above the geese, in their yearly formations, making a pattern for the south, responding to their nature. Every year I forget how magical autumn is, and every year I am pleasantly reminded.
Sometimes I think that I work in bizarro world. Part of my job is inventing work for other people to do. Making up projects, thinking of tasks to keep them occupied for a few hours. This, of course, can be involved, and usually takes a fair amount of my time to accomplish. How to make up work yet pretend that it’s meaningful, that it’s important? It seems so silly! I remember working in TESC’s conference services, and Laura, and Beckie, even Joel. The tasks they assigned me were (mostly) transparent and unnecessary, and I knew it, and I lost respect for them because of it. And here we are folks, here we are. How silly.
Tomorrow we will be a quarter of a century old. So will the sycamore trees in front of mom and dad’s house. The vernal equinox! Maybe I should get a job that’s mostly outside. And that is on the west coast. Near the ocean! A positively charged atmosphere, near water, near the sound of waves breaking.
Sometimes I think that I work in bizarro world. Part of my job is inventing work for other people to do. Making up projects, thinking of tasks to keep them occupied for a few hours. This, of course, can be involved, and usually takes a fair amount of my time to accomplish. How to make up work yet pretend that it’s meaningful, that it’s important? It seems so silly! I remember working in TESC’s conference services, and Laura, and Beckie, even Joel. The tasks they assigned me were (mostly) transparent and unnecessary, and I knew it, and I lost respect for them because of it. And here we are folks, here we are. How silly.
Tomorrow we will be a quarter of a century old. So will the sycamore trees in front of mom and dad’s house. The vernal equinox! Maybe I should get a job that’s mostly outside. And that is on the west coast. Near the ocean! A positively charged atmosphere, near water, near the sound of waves breaking.
19.9.04
sad sap
and he whose soul is flat,
the sky will cave in on him
by and by.
i am beginning to feel sorry for him. an amazing sentence, when i reread it. this is a thought i didn't think i would have. he remind's me of kafka's gregor; reacting to stimulation, waking to sleepwalk through the day, never opening the windows and letting the cold air bruise his lungs. where do the emotions go? i read him like the shell of some crustacean, the hard brittle surface, never revealing the soft pink stuff within.
i have not yet caved in to the thought that a life could be lived without the soft stuff within.
i read him like the character from a movie, from any movie. weaving random facts into his web, random pictures, trying to form a cohesive imagine in the minds of those around, including his own. if i can only pretend hard enough perhaps it will be true, like pinocchio, like patriclus. what suffering there must be in dishonesty with the self.
it's cold like autumn, and our birthday is Tuesday. i have been so thankful lately; how fortunate i am. even when some small misfortune hits, a piece of me remains aware of that. the people that you surround yourself with are such an important influence. choose wisely.
the sky will cave in on him
by and by.
i am beginning to feel sorry for him. an amazing sentence, when i reread it. this is a thought i didn't think i would have. he remind's me of kafka's gregor; reacting to stimulation, waking to sleepwalk through the day, never opening the windows and letting the cold air bruise his lungs. where do the emotions go? i read him like the shell of some crustacean, the hard brittle surface, never revealing the soft pink stuff within.
i have not yet caved in to the thought that a life could be lived without the soft stuff within.
i read him like the character from a movie, from any movie. weaving random facts into his web, random pictures, trying to form a cohesive imagine in the minds of those around, including his own. if i can only pretend hard enough perhaps it will be true, like pinocchio, like patriclus. what suffering there must be in dishonesty with the self.
it's cold like autumn, and our birthday is Tuesday. i have been so thankful lately; how fortunate i am. even when some small misfortune hits, a piece of me remains aware of that. the people that you surround yourself with are such an important influence. choose wisely.
14.9.04
my list
1. I meditate for two hours every day (for the most part).
2. I am fascinated yet terrified by death.
3. I am a loyal Honda driver.
4. Organized religion frightens me.
5. I think that spirituality is important, not religious affiliation.
6. I judge people harshly when they don’t question their beliefs.
7. Sometimes I hate my job.
8. Sometimes I think I have the best job in the world.
9. My biggest pet peeve in others is a lack of common sense.
10. My second biggest pet peeve is a lack of common courtesy.
11. The clients that I see tend to embody both characteristics.
12. Sometimes I worry that I have an undiscovered terminal illness.
13. Did I mention that I tend to be a hypochondriac?
14. I am physically stronger than most other women I know.
15. However, I tend to have difficulty standing up for myself.
16. I am working on being more authoritative.
17. I am reading “Verbal Judo”.
18. I believe in Karma.
19. I also believe in reincarnation (for the most part).
20. I think that most people lead lives of quiet desperation.
21. I have an amazing ability to forgive.
22. To me, being compassionate is the most noble of virtues.
23. I think that change can only be initiated from within.
24. I can be quite stubborn.
25. I have been in only two physical fights, and won both.
26. I have a tattoo.
27. J.D. Salinger is probably my favorite author.
28. I want to get my master’s for the sake of going back to school.
29. Oh my god, do I procrastinate.
30. But when I’m efficient, there’s no stopping me.
31. I am very critical of myself.
32. I don’t have tonsils anymore.
33. I want to live by the ocean someday.
34. One of my biggest fears is dying alone.
35. I can be fiercely protective of the people I care about.
36. I imagine the United States as a modern Rome – we will also fall.
37. I think that dolphins are evil and have fooled us all.
38. To me, the little things are the more important parts of a person’s character, much more than a heroic deed, or a grand philosophy.
39. When I get mad or flustered I observe my respiration.
40. I am a traveling freak show (that is, I am an identical twin).
41. My family is my support system.
42. My family is a group of amazing people.
43. My family is dysfunctional.
44. I am Bohemian; my face bears the Czech features of my ancestors.
45. I am passionately pro-choice.
46. I think that individuals are mostly good, and that groups of individuals are mostly bad.
47. I would wager that most people who believe in love at first sight are afraid of dying.
48. I don’t want to think that my body is ugly anymore.
49. Sometimes I can feel so much love and compassion that I think I might not be able to bear it.
50. I used to call metta “convulsive beauty” until I sat a Vipassana course.
51. I wish I had a larger circle of female friends.
52. Instead of a funeral, I’d like to have a gourmet brunch in my honor with really good music.
53. I am an introvert, but I front like an extrovert.
54. I was born on the virgo/libra cusp.
55. I snoop out my Christmas presents. Every year.
56. Right now I’m listening to Rachmaninov’s Vespers.
57. I cry easily whether I’m happy or sad.
58. I get tired when I have to talk a lot.
59. Halloween is my favorite holiday.
60. I think that video games are a tragic waste of time.
61. I think that people should spend more time in state and national parks.
62. I think that traditional education is highly over-rated.
63. I am a certified Emergency Medical Technician.
64. I used to fly planes.
65. I got my driver’s license when I was twenty-one.
66. When we were kids, my sisters and I published a weekly neighborhood paper.
67. I enjoy public speaking.
68. I also enjoy taking tests.
69. Silence doesn’t make me uncomfortable.
70. I practice yoga when I can wake up in the morning.
71. I think that our government should be dismantled, and that each state should become an independent nation.
72. If that happened, I would want to move to the Republic of Washington (formerly state of).
73. I have seen the aurora borealis.
74. Trains are my favorite way of traveling.
75. I think that each person should know how to farm, and how to do basic home repair.
76. I think that everyone should do the crucial jobs for two hours each day, and have the rest of the time to pursue their interests.
77. I think that housing, utilities, education, health care, public transit and food should be free.
78. I think you should have to be certified to have children.
79. I have been a vegetarian for over ten years.
80. I am in love with my husband.
81. I believe that if there is a God, it dwells within each of us.
82. I think that we are capable of so much more than we practice.
83. I enjoy awkward situations.
84. I really like to take baths in my big bathtub.
85. My husband and I will someday live in a house that we built.
86. I was almost hit by lightning when I was nineteen.
87. I have cycled down the pacific coast.
88. I have hiked on Mt. Rainier.
89. The first time I went snowboarding I hit my head so hard that I cried, Patrick came all the way back up the hill to hug me.
90. I have blacked out twice in the shower, for no reason.
91. I wish smoking wasn’t bad for you.
92. Lately I’ve been thinking about becoming a massage therapist.
93. I enjoy cooking things from scratch.
94. I am just now learning how naïve I am.
95. It angers me when people won’t help themselves, are dependent.
96. If Thom Yorke ran for president, I’d vote for him as many times as possible.
97. I am really attached to my last name.
98. I used to make jewelry.
99. I like to speak Spanish when drunk and at Vipassana Centers.
100. Strangers talk to me frequently.
< ? 100 Things # >
2. I am fascinated yet terrified by death.
3. I am a loyal Honda driver.
4. Organized religion frightens me.
5. I think that spirituality is important, not religious affiliation.
6. I judge people harshly when they don’t question their beliefs.
7. Sometimes I hate my job.
8. Sometimes I think I have the best job in the world.
9. My biggest pet peeve in others is a lack of common sense.
10. My second biggest pet peeve is a lack of common courtesy.
11. The clients that I see tend to embody both characteristics.
12. Sometimes I worry that I have an undiscovered terminal illness.
13. Did I mention that I tend to be a hypochondriac?
14. I am physically stronger than most other women I know.
15. However, I tend to have difficulty standing up for myself.
16. I am working on being more authoritative.
17. I am reading “Verbal Judo”.
18. I believe in Karma.
19. I also believe in reincarnation (for the most part).
20. I think that most people lead lives of quiet desperation.
21. I have an amazing ability to forgive.
22. To me, being compassionate is the most noble of virtues.
23. I think that change can only be initiated from within.
24. I can be quite stubborn.
25. I have been in only two physical fights, and won both.
26. I have a tattoo.
27. J.D. Salinger is probably my favorite author.
28. I want to get my master’s for the sake of going back to school.
29. Oh my god, do I procrastinate.
30. But when I’m efficient, there’s no stopping me.
31. I am very critical of myself.
32. I don’t have tonsils anymore.
33. I want to live by the ocean someday.
34. One of my biggest fears is dying alone.
35. I can be fiercely protective of the people I care about.
36. I imagine the United States as a modern Rome – we will also fall.
37. I think that dolphins are evil and have fooled us all.
38. To me, the little things are the more important parts of a person’s character, much more than a heroic deed, or a grand philosophy.
39. When I get mad or flustered I observe my respiration.
40. I am a traveling freak show (that is, I am an identical twin).
41. My family is my support system.
42. My family is a group of amazing people.
43. My family is dysfunctional.
44. I am Bohemian; my face bears the Czech features of my ancestors.
45. I am passionately pro-choice.
46. I think that individuals are mostly good, and that groups of individuals are mostly bad.
47. I would wager that most people who believe in love at first sight are afraid of dying.
48. I don’t want to think that my body is ugly anymore.
49. Sometimes I can feel so much love and compassion that I think I might not be able to bear it.
50. I used to call metta “convulsive beauty” until I sat a Vipassana course.
51. I wish I had a larger circle of female friends.
52. Instead of a funeral, I’d like to have a gourmet brunch in my honor with really good music.
53. I am an introvert, but I front like an extrovert.
54. I was born on the virgo/libra cusp.
55. I snoop out my Christmas presents. Every year.
56. Right now I’m listening to Rachmaninov’s Vespers.
57. I cry easily whether I’m happy or sad.
58. I get tired when I have to talk a lot.
59. Halloween is my favorite holiday.
60. I think that video games are a tragic waste of time.
61. I think that people should spend more time in state and national parks.
62. I think that traditional education is highly over-rated.
63. I am a certified Emergency Medical Technician.
64. I used to fly planes.
65. I got my driver’s license when I was twenty-one.
66. When we were kids, my sisters and I published a weekly neighborhood paper.
67. I enjoy public speaking.
68. I also enjoy taking tests.
69. Silence doesn’t make me uncomfortable.
70. I practice yoga when I can wake up in the morning.
71. I think that our government should be dismantled, and that each state should become an independent nation.
72. If that happened, I would want to move to the Republic of Washington (formerly state of).
73. I have seen the aurora borealis.
74. Trains are my favorite way of traveling.
75. I think that each person should know how to farm, and how to do basic home repair.
76. I think that everyone should do the crucial jobs for two hours each day, and have the rest of the time to pursue their interests.
77. I think that housing, utilities, education, health care, public transit and food should be free.
78. I think you should have to be certified to have children.
79. I have been a vegetarian for over ten years.
80. I am in love with my husband.
81. I believe that if there is a God, it dwells within each of us.
82. I think that we are capable of so much more than we practice.
83. I enjoy awkward situations.
84. I really like to take baths in my big bathtub.
85. My husband and I will someday live in a house that we built.
86. I was almost hit by lightning when I was nineteen.
87. I have cycled down the pacific coast.
88. I have hiked on Mt. Rainier.
89. The first time I went snowboarding I hit my head so hard that I cried, Patrick came all the way back up the hill to hug me.
90. I have blacked out twice in the shower, for no reason.
91. I wish smoking wasn’t bad for you.
92. Lately I’ve been thinking about becoming a massage therapist.
93. I enjoy cooking things from scratch.
94. I am just now learning how naïve I am.
95. It angers me when people won’t help themselves, are dependent.
96. If Thom Yorke ran for president, I’d vote for him as many times as possible.
97. I am really attached to my last name.
98. I used to make jewelry.
99. I like to speak Spanish when drunk and at Vipassana Centers.
100. Strangers talk to me frequently.
< ? 100 Things # >
10.9.04
i have been wanting to go for a trip on a train lately. somewhere west of chicago, preferably where it's cold enough in the morning so that you see your breath. being carried into the unknown by a vessel made of steel, iron, formica and polyester fabric. maybe we could ride out to the entrance of Glacier, there's a station there. And surely those peaks have already seen some snowfall this time of year. but mostly it's the journey i'm after, all of the unheard of towns, breakfast diners, cow pastures, kids getting onto school buses, the daily life in backwater, montana. this is america, this is who we are.
my slice of americana today: Rotary International. (I think they have a few clubs in Guam.) Am a little nervous and insecure about the whole thing. Those guys have been condescending to me since way back, since I was a little scrapper. I'm a liberal and they're not, I'm a woman and they're not, I work with the public and they don't, will they hear anything that I say...
my mom told me they sing the pledge of allegiance before the speaker goes on. lord be with me. (i'll report back later.)
my slice of americana today: Rotary International. (I think they have a few clubs in Guam.) Am a little nervous and insecure about the whole thing. Those guys have been condescending to me since way back, since I was a little scrapper. I'm a liberal and they're not, I'm a woman and they're not, I work with the public and they don't, will they hear anything that I say...
my mom told me they sing the pledge of allegiance before the speaker goes on. lord be with me. (i'll report back later.)
7.9.04
mi famiglia
this week i will learn by going where i have to go. so many appointments, meetings, deadlines, events, orientations. work boiled down to its essence, no days of fluffy filling, of that extraneous human connection. but i am writing this, am i not?
i am working to keep in mind how precious this life is. how every single moment that i take breath is full of magic, pregnant with potential. i am capable of being completely honest and direct, how gloriously terrifying! oh, but how absolutely necessary it has become, hasn't it? whose hands are these, typing? there is nothing stopping me from being truthful every second of every day, nothing save myself -- my fears and old scar tissue. is there a knowledge which is more empowering? i know that no matter what i choose, no matter how strong i decide to be, i will have the love and support of my family, my true family, ad astra per aspera...
how lucky, how privileged i must be to know this.
and now, a secret: bring your head out of the clouds of philosophy and force your feet to hit the pavement. the earth. what is real and what isn't? perspective there is a chasm that divides the exhalation of each breath from the new inhalation. the amount of possibility that dwells there... each time we come to it we are given the gift of being able to start again. clean, beatified. how can i profess to be agnostic when we have been born with everything we could possibly need, inside. humans are like hmaki. if we could just clear away the excess, we could realize the perfect simplicity of this existence.
but we like to complicate things, don't we?
i am working to keep in mind how precious this life is. how every single moment that i take breath is full of magic, pregnant with potential. i am capable of being completely honest and direct, how gloriously terrifying! oh, but how absolutely necessary it has become, hasn't it? whose hands are these, typing? there is nothing stopping me from being truthful every second of every day, nothing save myself -- my fears and old scar tissue. is there a knowledge which is more empowering? i know that no matter what i choose, no matter how strong i decide to be, i will have the love and support of my family, my true family, ad astra per aspera...
how lucky, how privileged i must be to know this.
and now, a secret: bring your head out of the clouds of philosophy and force your feet to hit the pavement. the earth. what is real and what isn't? perspective there is a chasm that divides the exhalation of each breath from the new inhalation. the amount of possibility that dwells there... each time we come to it we are given the gift of being able to start again. clean, beatified. how can i profess to be agnostic when we have been born with everything we could possibly need, inside. humans are like hmaki. if we could just clear away the excess, we could realize the perfect simplicity of this existence.
but we like to complicate things, don't we?
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