Wednesday, October 26, 2011
It Makes No Difference, Rick Danko 1997
Dare I try to play this one? I bow to the memory and living presence of Rick Danko!
I want to write more and must journey at the moment.
Much love. Back to ya soon.
xo
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Nothing comes of thinking, but I do have impulses to move. To go where no one knows me and maybe linger there. With new people or by myself or both. I don't know. Is it the fall air, at last arrived in Austin, that calls me away? Is it a day with a friend, pleasant enough, but by the end of the day, I don't want to talk with anyone anymore. I don't want to step into an already-known relationship.
Some trees, the longing for the color changes from my home state that I leave, again and again. But fall in love with at this time of year. It's a northern seduction, distracting you from the agony of the death of summer, the on-going winter, right around the corner that will linger and linger.
We don't have that here in Texas. I don't even really know where I am. It's cooler in my apartment right now than it has been in months. I want to put my pajamas on. I feel tired.
Will I someday . . . what? What goes on the end of that question, when turning back to see if there's even an I here to ask about?
Some trees, the longing for the color changes from my home state that I leave, again and again. But fall in love with at this time of year. It's a northern seduction, distracting you from the agony of the death of summer, the on-going winter, right around the corner that will linger and linger.
We don't have that here in Texas. I don't even really know where I am. It's cooler in my apartment right now than it has been in months. I want to put my pajamas on. I feel tired.
Will I someday . . . what? What goes on the end of that question, when turning back to see if there's even an I here to ask about?
Monday, October 17, 2011
View of My Lap
I love how that title sounds kinda dirty, but when you look, well, it's all blanket and laptop love.
I felt like I should put a picture in here, so I took one of the view from where I'm sitting (minus the hand that was holding the camera).
The mind is quiet today, curious, happy.
I went to see Francis the Healer again for the first time in, as it turns out, at least two years. He looked a little older, a few pounds heavier, perhaps, and I was really glad to be there. The first thing he said to me is, "You look like you've grown since the last time I saw you." Emphatically and like a little girl, as I lay on the table, I said, "I have grown!"
My days are just so trippy, and I can't tell what begets anything else. Oh wow, I just saw that I was sort of looking for causality. Well, that's interesting. Some thoughts are becoming more and more apparent when they had been very subtle.
And all of this experience is passing.
I submitted poems to a literary magazine yesterday. I feel to share one of them here with you now, but I don't think I'm supposed to, now that it's gone to the magazine. Oh I don't know how these things work. I'm gonna share some of it. Let me go get it . . .
{footsteps walking down a hallway, a wooden floor . . .
. . . now coming back}
poem excerpt, from "Like Thoreau":
Well! I didn't realize this was still here . . . I re-wrote most of this post, but just found this. I'm going with this one. There's something to be said for the original.
xx
I felt like I should put a picture in here, so I took one of the view from where I'm sitting (minus the hand that was holding the camera).
The mind is quiet today, curious, happy.
I went to see Francis the Healer again for the first time in, as it turns out, at least two years. He looked a little older, a few pounds heavier, perhaps, and I was really glad to be there. The first thing he said to me is, "You look like you've grown since the last time I saw you." Emphatically and like a little girl, as I lay on the table, I said, "I have grown!"
My days are just so trippy, and I can't tell what begets anything else. Oh wow, I just saw that I was sort of looking for causality. Well, that's interesting. Some thoughts are becoming more and more apparent when they had been very subtle.
And all of this experience is passing.
I submitted poems to a literary magazine yesterday. I feel to share one of them here with you now, but I don't think I'm supposed to, now that it's gone to the magazine. Oh I don't know how these things work. I'm gonna share some of it. Let me go get it . . .
{footsteps walking down a hallway, a wooden floor . . .
. . . now coming back}
poem excerpt, from "Like Thoreau":
May I have time to rest?
How else am I liberated to write &
write & write?
Like Thoreau,
I need benefactors.
I cannot hide anymore
in the world of the punch card.
I love my poems, even if I do still slip into the obvious sometimes. I sent them off unedited, a typo in the one that I think is best.
* * * * * computer crashes * * * * *
Well! I didn't realize this was still here . . . I re-wrote most of this post, but just found this. I'm going with this one. There's something to be said for the original.
xx
Friday, October 14, 2011
Worry Makes Less and Less Sense
I used to feel twinges of comparison. I guess I could say that sometimes I still feel them, as I just did, which spawned this writing, but it passed very quickly.
I used to compare myself a lot to others and the way they were living their lives. In fact, the other day one of my friends told me that she doesn't like to go on Facebook because she always comes away feeling like her life is small and boring.
I'm sitting on my living room couch. My friend's birthday party going on in the back yard is kicking up to a ruckus, somewhat to my disappointment, as I'm a slut for my peace and quiet.
Anyway, moments ago I saw something on-line . . . a post by a musician friend describing what sounds like his glamorous life. And I felt this envy or comparison come up, like a subtle voice that says, Why aren't you living that life? You should be doing more. You're lazy, a loser, a fat kid on the couch.
It was a sweet little flicker, though, because I saw it come up, and I checked in with the veracity of those statements, and they just fell away.
Yes, I'm sitting here on my couch. But I don't feel the need or wish for anything other than this. That is, this is the life that's unfolding for me, and I don't wish for something different.
Even when I'm feeling stress, I wish I didn't have the feeling of stress, or I might wish for something to solve it, but my sense of a future is so blank, I can't look that far ahead to worry. It's as if worry makes less and less sense to me.
And still there are thoughts that come through . . . thoughts that threaten, that insist on worry, on fear, on strategizing, and though I suffer when they come through, ultimately they, too, pass, and life continues to go on.
And even when the worry comes, when the conflicted mind comes, as Mooji reminds us here, that, too, is seen, even as the peace is seen. And life continues to unfold beyond my mental comprehension.
It is a mysterious time for me. Will this relaxation settle more and more? It seems like the only way it can go. That is, the unfolding is inevitable. I don't see how I could go back to living from my thoughts. It doesn't make any logical sense, and I suppose it's simply the sense that I am a separate self with a sense of doership and responsibility to manage and control life that feeds the worry. I'm very curious right now. And grateful to my teachers.
I used to compare myself a lot to others and the way they were living their lives. In fact, the other day one of my friends told me that she doesn't like to go on Facebook because she always comes away feeling like her life is small and boring.
I'm sitting on my living room couch. My friend's birthday party going on in the back yard is kicking up to a ruckus, somewhat to my disappointment, as I'm a slut for my peace and quiet.
Anyway, moments ago I saw something on-line . . . a post by a musician friend describing what sounds like his glamorous life. And I felt this envy or comparison come up, like a subtle voice that says, Why aren't you living that life? You should be doing more. You're lazy, a loser, a fat kid on the couch.
It was a sweet little flicker, though, because I saw it come up, and I checked in with the veracity of those statements, and they just fell away.
Yes, I'm sitting here on my couch. But I don't feel the need or wish for anything other than this. That is, this is the life that's unfolding for me, and I don't wish for something different.
Even when I'm feeling stress, I wish I didn't have the feeling of stress, or I might wish for something to solve it, but my sense of a future is so blank, I can't look that far ahead to worry. It's as if worry makes less and less sense to me.
And still there are thoughts that come through . . . thoughts that threaten, that insist on worry, on fear, on strategizing, and though I suffer when they come through, ultimately they, too, pass, and life continues to go on.
And even when the worry comes, when the conflicted mind comes, as Mooji reminds us here, that, too, is seen, even as the peace is seen. And life continues to unfold beyond my mental comprehension.
It is a mysterious time for me. Will this relaxation settle more and more? It seems like the only way it can go. That is, the unfolding is inevitable. I don't see how I could go back to living from my thoughts. It doesn't make any logical sense, and I suppose it's simply the sense that I am a separate self with a sense of doership and responsibility to manage and control life that feeds the worry. I'm very curious right now. And grateful to my teachers.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Entertaining Myself
Thanks to last week's post when I thought I was moving house (whew! glad I got clear about not to do that just now!), I developed a new love for the song Willin', as played live below by Little Feat c. 1976. I've spent the days since then learning to play the song on guitar, and I'm downright proud of myself.
I'd looked at the chords written out before and in not being able to make sense of their apparent over-my-head-ness, I gave up pretty quickly. But thanks to the joys of YouTube (that also helped me fix my toilet all by myself today), and some patience, and a sprinkle of desire to be bad ass for knowing how, I've learned to play Willin',
I'm still not totally sure on how to sing the verses over the chords, but I also feel that they are too low for me, so I've asked a few of my male music buddies to help me out. I think Chris Cage is a great bet. He has that perfect story-telling way of singing that makes the verses of this song what they are.
And now I want everyone to pay attention and talk about how charming my doodle is and how cool of a chick I am for learning Willin' and . . . what? . . . you say the boyz are all busy watching Monday Night Football? Oh well. I am entertaining myself.
xx
I'd looked at the chords written out before and in not being able to make sense of their apparent over-my-head-ness, I gave up pretty quickly. But thanks to the joys of YouTube (that also helped me fix my toilet all by myself today), and some patience, and a sprinkle of desire to be bad ass for knowing how, I've learned to play Willin',
I'm still not totally sure on how to sing the verses over the chords, but I also feel that they are too low for me, so I've asked a few of my male music buddies to help me out. I think Chris Cage is a great bet. He has that perfect story-telling way of singing that makes the verses of this song what they are.
And now I want everyone to pay attention and talk about how charming my doodle is and how cool of a chick I am for learning Willin' and . . . what? . . . you say the boyz are all busy watching Monday Night Football? Oh well. I am entertaining myself.
xx
Saturday, October 8, 2011
freedom from an office
This time of my life feels like a groundless quickening.
I realized recently that even when we have situations that appear to be stable, they aren't necessarily. Change comes on its own timetable.
I feel fortunate, like the super scary time has passed for now, but knowing the reality of anicca, impermanence, steady times come and go. Upheaval comes and goes.
I see in the story of Carin that there has been a desire and a movement toward living life in the style that works for me, but there were some thoughts that simply felt it was not possible. That there had to be a windfall or a steady job. As I read over this now, it's funny that I wrote that the thoughts felt.
I just heard Mooji say, "Leave room for some surprise."
And so the steady job removes itself and it was a big and sudden surprise, and it's had me see the direction of this compass.
The night before I was told that I was likely to lose my job, I'd made a list of qualities I wanted in my life. Actually, I'd titled it What I Want from the Airstream Life, as I'd become restless at work and wanted to focus my intention. Here's the list:
freedom
spontanaety
natural sleep cycle
beautiful places
beautiful new friends
new places & locations
creativity
creative inspiration
rest
physical health & wellness
freedom from an office (ALH) [those are the initials of the hospital where I'd been working]
pay, for what I do naturally
complete leap of faith
peace, peace, peace, peace, peace, peace, peace
And I'd say I have it all, really. A few days ago I moved my bedroom around and I didn't plug my clock back in. It's one of my favorite things about this change: sleeping and waking up when I want. Natural sleep cycle.
Interestingly, I find that I don't sleep quite as much as I have in the past. That is, I have been sleeping under 8 hours a night, and I'm not missing the extra 30 - 90 minutes that was my preference and natural cycle before. And this, too, will not last in this design. I cannot predict any of my behavior or patterns or anything.
Perhaps because I'm seeing more and more that it isn't "me" in the way I've always thought of myself, who is actually guiding things. I - as Carin - am not in charge. There isn't really any such thing as a Carin anyway. Surely I am not those letters on the screen.
And if I were, they couldn't be making decisions and driving my life.
I feel comfortable in the groundless feeling. It seems as if life has been giving me feedback the last few days that I can actually go with my instincts, live a simple and flexible life, live comfortably, get paid to do things that are fun for me, and just stay relaxed and unscheduled enough to enjoy the gentle unfoldment of life. Until it doesn't seem gentle anymore, says memory of recent angst.
I wouldn't say that I'm angst free at present. Nor would I say that I have an official mental trust in what's coming, for how could I know anything beyond now? It's impossible. I wouldn't call it hopeful nor even encouraged. I might call it peaceful or spacious, but neither of those quite says it. I just am. Living.
I realized recently that even when we have situations that appear to be stable, they aren't necessarily. Change comes on its own timetable.
I feel fortunate, like the super scary time has passed for now, but knowing the reality of anicca, impermanence, steady times come and go. Upheaval comes and goes.
I see in the story of Carin that there has been a desire and a movement toward living life in the style that works for me, but there were some thoughts that simply felt it was not possible. That there had to be a windfall or a steady job. As I read over this now, it's funny that I wrote that the thoughts felt.
I just heard Mooji say, "Leave room for some surprise."
And so the steady job removes itself and it was a big and sudden surprise, and it's had me see the direction of this compass.
The night before I was told that I was likely to lose my job, I'd made a list of qualities I wanted in my life. Actually, I'd titled it What I Want from the Airstream Life, as I'd become restless at work and wanted to focus my intention. Here's the list:
freedom
spontanaety
natural sleep cycle
beautiful places
beautiful new friends
new places & locations
creativity
creative inspiration
rest
physical health & wellness
freedom from an office (ALH) [those are the initials of the hospital where I'd been working]
pay, for what I do naturally
complete leap of faith
peace, peace, peace, peace, peace, peace, peace
And I'd say I have it all, really. A few days ago I moved my bedroom around and I didn't plug my clock back in. It's one of my favorite things about this change: sleeping and waking up when I want. Natural sleep cycle.
Interestingly, I find that I don't sleep quite as much as I have in the past. That is, I have been sleeping under 8 hours a night, and I'm not missing the extra 30 - 90 minutes that was my preference and natural cycle before. And this, too, will not last in this design. I cannot predict any of my behavior or patterns or anything.
Perhaps because I'm seeing more and more that it isn't "me" in the way I've always thought of myself, who is actually guiding things. I - as Carin - am not in charge. There isn't really any such thing as a Carin anyway. Surely I am not those letters on the screen.
And if I were, they couldn't be making decisions and driving my life.
I feel comfortable in the groundless feeling. It seems as if life has been giving me feedback the last few days that I can actually go with my instincts, live a simple and flexible life, live comfortably, get paid to do things that are fun for me, and just stay relaxed and unscheduled enough to enjoy the gentle unfoldment of life. Until it doesn't seem gentle anymore, says memory of recent angst.
I wouldn't say that I'm angst free at present. Nor would I say that I have an official mental trust in what's coming, for how could I know anything beyond now? It's impossible. I wouldn't call it hopeful nor even encouraged. I might call it peaceful or spacious, but neither of those quite says it. I just am. Living.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Great Movie. I give it 4.5 stars.
Too much to tell but I'll start . . .
Just finished watching It Might Get Loud, and what is sexier than three guys with electric guitars?
The Edge singing The Weight? That's bad ass. Jack singing it.
Great movie. Great guitar art music life inspiration.
Also tonight my friend handed me a copy of Patti Smith's acclaimed recent book, Just Kids. They're makin that one a movie, I read in RS.
I told my landlords that I'm not movin out. Roger came by tonight and told me that he's so happy and that made me feel so good. So glad I'm not moving house just now. And I feel the vulnerability of the situation has been enlightening. It's kinda floaty. Gosh, how did it get to be 12:09?
I'm not really into writing anything else right now. Hope you guys are having a good night. xx
Just finished watching It Might Get Loud, and what is sexier than three guys with electric guitars?
The Edge singing The Weight? That's bad ass. Jack singing it.
Great movie. Great guitar art music life inspiration.
Also tonight my friend handed me a copy of Patti Smith's acclaimed recent book, Just Kids. They're makin that one a movie, I read in RS.
I told my landlords that I'm not movin out. Roger came by tonight and told me that he's so happy and that made me feel so good. So glad I'm not moving house just now. And I feel the vulnerability of the situation has been enlightening. It's kinda floaty. Gosh, how did it get to be 12:09?
I'm not really into writing anything else right now. Hope you guys are having a good night. xx
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Without a Net, part 2 - Willin'
I get to know myself in ways that I would not have had things around me stayed stable.
Had I still been working full time at my mind-numbing job, I might have complained, felt weary, hid away on the weekends, had a pretty good time with my coworkers and our clients, felt fat and stagnant, and watched Mooji videos on YouTube from my desk though I couldn't really hear them.
But I wouldn't have had to really look. Not that I have to now. And not that looking is like a should or is even happening at all. You could say seeing. Observing, noticing, relaxing, seeing. Yes, looking almost feels mental. Like there's pressure to do something.
This is a good reminder for me to notice. If I'm moving toward an action and I can feel that pressured ache inside my forehead as if pushing my skull outward from above my eyes, I know this is not coming from a place of rest.
Ah, yes, this is a helpful distinction.
I feel that I do not have to push myself. Have a willingness? Perhaps, but even that seems to be arising on its own. A willingness, a wonder . . .
Oh la la la la la . . .
I wandered away from this for a moment and came back and it all feels like dribble! Seems so serious and significant, and sometimes that's just how it is, and amazingly it just drops away, again and again, with just a little allowing and a little space.
I have to pee.
It's quiet in my apartment and I love it here. I will be moving out in about a month and I'm glad to have this time off of work to be here, to rest and enjoy my space this month, to . . . yeah, maybe freak out sometimes. I'm willin' . . .
Don't be surprised if I start playin this one myself pretty soon . . .
Had I still been working full time at my mind-numbing job, I might have complained, felt weary, hid away on the weekends, had a pretty good time with my coworkers and our clients, felt fat and stagnant, and watched Mooji videos on YouTube from my desk though I couldn't really hear them.
But I wouldn't have had to really look. Not that I have to now. And not that looking is like a should or is even happening at all. You could say seeing. Observing, noticing, relaxing, seeing. Yes, looking almost feels mental. Like there's pressure to do something.
This is a good reminder for me to notice. If I'm moving toward an action and I can feel that pressured ache inside my forehead as if pushing my skull outward from above my eyes, I know this is not coming from a place of rest.
Ah, yes, this is a helpful distinction.
I feel that I do not have to push myself. Have a willingness? Perhaps, but even that seems to be arising on its own. A willingness, a wonder . . .
Oh la la la la la . . .
I wandered away from this for a moment and came back and it all feels like dribble! Seems so serious and significant, and sometimes that's just how it is, and amazingly it just drops away, again and again, with just a little allowing and a little space.
I have to pee.
It's quiet in my apartment and I love it here. I will be moving out in about a month and I'm glad to have this time off of work to be here, to rest and enjoy my space this month, to . . . yeah, maybe freak out sometimes. I'm willin' . . .
Don't be surprised if I start playin this one myself pretty soon . . .
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Live: Without a Net
Just as I put on Disco Pandora when I'm working on promoting my upcoming class, Disco & Doodles: Unleashing Creative Freedom, I've turned on the Levon Helm station to write this post today. Now, as I go back to edit, I'm hearing, well, you'll see.
I just feel like writing. I also feel like taking a nap.
It's Saturday, October 1, 2011. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to give my notice that I'm moving out to my landlords today. I'm nervous about it! Leaping without a net . . .
Back in 1991, I was in college in Miami, tripping around with Mike Russo, and on a particularly stressful night, I hit the change button on his CD changer, and on came "Eyes of the World" from the Grateful Dead's live recording, Without a Net (1990). After years of hearing worn out bootleg cassettes of the Dead, I finally got some clarity about what my friends loved so much. The song was incredibly soothing in the moment, and the rest is latecomer history. The following spring I hit the east coast tour, and three and half years later, when Jerry [Garcia] died, I had seen him perform 81 times. Not bad for a latecomer, if I do say so myself.
Of course, among Heads, this album is known in part for Branford Marsalis's saxophone contribution to "Eyes," and his sound was familiar to me that day, too. I'd met Branford at a jazz festival in Nice, France, on the eve of my 20th birthday in July 1990.
Here's Branford sounding awesome with the band, 3/29/90, a sweet audience recording. If you're interested, here's a soundboard recording of the entire show at Nassau Coliseum. Watching this video reminds me of the one Dead show I saw with my dad (thanks, Dad!) at Nassau and they played "Eyes." I remember thinking, "This is what they must mean when they say 'a religious experience.'" The band played so strongly that night (this was 1993, spring tour, I think), and it was my favorite "Eyes" that I ever saw them do live.
Wow, my meandering is going deep into my Dead history. Just a few days ago, when I threw away all those journals and photo albums I mentioned below, I also threw away some little rubber toy snakes that I'd found both in New York and again in Orlando on that same '93 spring tour. Sigh . . .
What is opening up now? Life unfolds and unfolds and unfolds, and underneath and within, something remains unmoved, unchanged, awake, alert, unopinionated, even though sometimes it seems to smile.
I've been worried before. Scared plenty. And surely I haven't seen the last of it.
Today one of my friends called me to ask me if I was in need of a place to stay in November. Felt great to have her call and ask and to be able to tell her I really don't know where I'm going and that if it feels good to them (she'll be on her honeymoon), I'd love to stay at their place, and also to tell her that I'm okay with whatever feels good.
This blog and this intended journey helps keep the spark of enthusiasm alive for me in the worrying times.
In life, I'm never truly without a net, and this is what I've been coming to find. Awareness/awakeness is here all the time. Cradling everything in its arms. The fear. The glee. The longing, lust, anger, delight, hunger, fatigue, sickness, dreaminess, joy, love, peace, swooning over your favorite band.
xx
p.s. As I was finishing this post, another friend called to invite me to travel with her and her husband, starting at a retreat they are offering in Louisiana in November. Yes, invitations! I welcome your calls.
I just feel like writing. I also feel like taking a nap.
It's Saturday, October 1, 2011. I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to give my notice that I'm moving out to my landlords today. I'm nervous about it! Leaping without a net . . .
Of course, among Heads, this album is known in part for Branford Marsalis's saxophone contribution to "Eyes," and his sound was familiar to me that day, too. I'd met Branford at a jazz festival in Nice, France, on the eve of my 20th birthday in July 1990.
Here's Branford sounding awesome with the band, 3/29/90, a sweet audience recording. If you're interested, here's a soundboard recording of the entire show at Nassau Coliseum. Watching this video reminds me of the one Dead show I saw with my dad (thanks, Dad!) at Nassau and they played "Eyes." I remember thinking, "This is what they must mean when they say 'a religious experience.'" The band played so strongly that night (this was 1993, spring tour, I think), and it was my favorite "Eyes" that I ever saw them do live.
Wow, my meandering is going deep into my Dead history. Just a few days ago, when I threw away all those journals and photo albums I mentioned below, I also threw away some little rubber toy snakes that I'd found both in New York and again in Orlando on that same '93 spring tour. Sigh . . .
What is opening up now? Life unfolds and unfolds and unfolds, and underneath and within, something remains unmoved, unchanged, awake, alert, unopinionated, even though sometimes it seems to smile.
I've been worried before. Scared plenty. And surely I haven't seen the last of it.
Today one of my friends called me to ask me if I was in need of a place to stay in November. Felt great to have her call and ask and to be able to tell her I really don't know where I'm going and that if it feels good to them (she'll be on her honeymoon), I'd love to stay at their place, and also to tell her that I'm okay with whatever feels good.
This blog and this intended journey helps keep the spark of enthusiasm alive for me in the worrying times.
In life, I'm never truly without a net, and this is what I've been coming to find. Awareness/awakeness is here all the time. Cradling everything in its arms. The fear. The glee. The longing, lust, anger, delight, hunger, fatigue, sickness, dreaminess, joy, love, peace, swooning over your favorite band.
xx
p.s. As I was finishing this post, another friend called to invite me to travel with her and her husband, starting at a retreat they are offering in Louisiana in November. Yes, invitations! I welcome your calls.
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