if you wait in the least comfortable place you may let yourself into an inner door of a greater force and inspiration, well, i just experimented myself and got there and how did it happen? Okay, first ingredient was the new moon. I have apparently been wrong again! in my awaiting the full moon, investing too fully in the symbol of the full moon and nothing else for a return on my energies. This is what happens when one is pulled at by so many angles you lose yourself and collective archetypes begin to pronounce themselves to you… so you go for a really hard exercise (in my case an 8mile run followed by a 1mile walk yesterday) which takes you out of your mind and into your body. then you get some uneven sleep chopped up by the trend of cats in motion and a subtle but heavy rumbling through the walls (the inhabitants of adjacent apartments). then you get up after midnight and heat the coffee and milk on the stove and walk around feeling the dull aches and pains in the body, softened by slippers on the feet. the pain is all further softened by cereal followed by a whole thermos of coffee taken slowly over time in capfuls. the sounds you allow are windchimes and passing trains and autos in the night, and voices and laughter of late nighters, all through cracked windows, and inside its gotta be either silence or kitchen humming and a low volume atmosphere of local public radio – classical. jazz is not to be discounted, but jazz is better for winter, classical for summer to counter the general liveliness. I tried a firm chair in the back room with the laptop on a small glass table. Had a capful and bantered with the cats. Stepped outside on back and front porches between times of writing or reading or thinking. Delta breeze in effect tonight. I was several times convinced I would need to go back to bed to restore energy. But these thoughts make no sense. I am nothing if not well rested! For several months now! Last year this time it was quite the opposite, or two years ago, when I was much more invested in coffee and perhaps a whole pot a day versus today less than half a pot a day and much easier on the nerves. At any rate, this was the semblance of my condition about three hours into my new day at night, a dull suffering through a lull period alone, when scanning a cell phone article about a famed spanish director who just cut a film loosely based on a famed canadian author’s short stories, i suddenly felt my energy congratulate me with a shift and i stepped down into the dark of my backyard (seeking lightly the one cat whose always out and about hunting), and saw the new light from the apartment building across Eggplant alley which was always there but now the entire building presents itself to me on one flank, for the tree removal people took down the side of trees for some reason last week and what took so many years to hide, is suddenly bare and exposed forever. And I thought in an passionate way about a dispassionate subject of renting a home, well, how many little spaces with aircon units jutting out in little boxes, how many little nooks and crannies there are in this and any city! That if you set your heart on a little space, man or woman, you may seek and find your very own! For there are so many even right here within a hundred yards radius of my own! And this was a happy thought which followed and follows with more and more inspired and happy thoughts, and I certainly would have laughed in your face two hours ago when I woke up sore and wondering, had you told me then that several inspired happy thoughts would come my way and brighten up these new moon days of crescending energies, and they have. they truly have.
There is a life inside each of us, call it what you will. You can access this life, this world, by dreaming, lucid dreaming, various forms of meditation, various forms of process. You can access through silence. You can access it through music. You can access it through ritual. Some of us will explore it by conducting our own far-reaching experiments in our own spaces, laboratories, dance floors. Some of us may create worlds to share with others, through businesses, churches, schools, non-profits. Some will find the secret life by the body, pushing limits of endurance. Some will get there in relationships, loving, an affect or emotional access point. Others can tap in with pens and papers, blueprints, brushes and tools. Some will find catharsis in shared meaning, collective experiments, cooperatives. Others will find renewal hanging off the edges of mountains, alone. Teaching makes a microcosm out of a classroom. People reflect off of one another, and understand themselves better. Mind-body-spirit philosophies. Chanting, mantras, yoga, mindfulness, drumming, devotional practices all throughout the world. Reading and writing and speaking out. Time spent alone, in nature, pilgrimages. There is a secret life inside of us, and what’s really wonderful is when you can access it and, catharsis or not, it makes you more alive, with wonder, and gives you a reason to smile and smile towards someone, too. Shining like you do. – KatYa
Usually if i am feeling hurt, i want to hurt back. there have been stressful times in my life where i reacted and acted on my hurt feelings.
Patterns take shape and repeat.
These occasions, whatever the frequency, usually result in two feeling hurt, rather than one. and played out across the web of lives and feelings, we find we are all hurt a little in the end.
Patterns take shape and repeat.
Then the madness of friends or loved ones or just two beings facing off by accident or intention, looks on a chart of frequency of hurt, amplified.
Patterns take shape and repeat.
Because not only do i hurt myself anytime i exercise hurt upon another, but often another lashes back again, and the hurt goes deeper, and vulnerabilities begin to show, and we are hurting both selfsame and other.
Patterns take shape and repeat.
In retrospect, we see the violence inherent in such situations. and hopefully we look to find conscious ways to reduce hurt in our lives, not alone but together.
See the conscious ways?
See the first aid application on feelings? See the system? How we can do this, together?
See the choices.
Feel the freedom.
Hold the hope
i was driving as though i had to put out a fire. a dark night and alone. i ate a ham sandwich, cause i broke the speed limit, in half. then chauffeured to clean confines. regimented was the line time marched along. beards and lies grew wild and twisted. drawn faces of joshua tree turnovers. pop went the tarts. we feared for broken hearts. who would put them back together again? puzzle masters?
words were crossed and lovers’ stars. the moon was wax. the tables turned. i found myself stood up in second hand shoes. i realized by the feeling, i was wrong. compassion cooked up light, white and fluffy. in a new york minute. our tears receded to salt trails on thickening skin. someone drowned theirs, in gin. i followed mine back into the eye. which reflected me, redirected me, to a glowing sensation. the same of yours and his and hers. this was our collective freedom. we all arrived there after loneliness and suffering. and rejoiced.
Culture! On the rise. On the thoroughfare of decline. How much a paradox, culture. Always. But why? This became the question for the intelligentsia and the intelligence community to unravel, or turn and grease and turn through slippery hands and minds and collective politically-based idea factories in all its holographic glory so to cover all possible aspects and leave no stone unturned between heaven and all hell;
touchscreens by iphone
mapped by google
rubix cube on wheels
virtual pac-man (on miss pac-man)
doublemint, latex-sprayed, triple helix, malleable, homeland security shookdown, std- proofed, double your fun, confessional-sanctioned, pope-approved, double your pleasure, avatarian recreational. Yes. Tasty technological treats borrowed from the highest ranking military and intelligence officers’ quarters somewhere in death valley, near a secret desalination plant airlifted by drones from Dubai in the middle of the night many moons ago, just so many unknown miles from the alien docking pads to earth, drowned out by the lights and sounds of the postmodern resurrected Las Vegas metropolis. And vehemently disowned by the Administration. Yes. Tasty technological treats, tax-appropriated out the yingyang circa 2001, handled by the freshest natural born citizens with the cleanest slate records and very possibly robots or droids or blowfish poisoned, shellacqued zombies-4-freedom
USA – genotyped
fingerprinted and man-handled
debugged and rooted, microchip implanted, samsung manufactured, cloud-protected, supercomputer hardcopied…with an added feature of complete and unlimited playback * of all lawfully yet non-transparently gathered fresh NSA data, mined exclusively from you and that dude who lives next door to you** until cancelled at anytime.*** Guaranteed current and fashionable (though maybe emaciated or soundbytten or heroin chic) and filtered of all administration-branded nonsense (including the trade journal or democracy-when? kind). They performed such wizardry from their desks and satin stitched loveseats on backyard balconies jutting out of their ivy hideouts. Or else, for those with the proper clearance who were constantly mobile, through remote desktop controls permeating clouds with passwords and repititious ID scans in the nondescript (and unsuspecting) offices of community college mudhuts across the country, or, in cases where time got crunched, free wifi local coffeeshop hotspots created and protected easily for short periods of time across the grid. Always cloaked, though purportedly transparent. Wherever.
Unfortunately at times the two were inseparable. The circus and the intelligence wrapped up trying to find meaning in it. Increasingly ineffectual… all this was made quite a bit more restless and anxiety-prone inside the collective heads of the pushing 350 million population, where the diminishing rate of return
by the heavily taxed 99% of neurotransmitters getting fucked with****, under auspices of heavy pharmaceutical rotation, toward an approaching parallel yet still tangential moving target of drain and leaking of energies on the vertical axis of collective coping mechanism function. Which translates to something really potentially ominous on the horizon, which you and me and your mom (and the Beverley Hillbillies, too) within our greater cultural context, could not , cannot, and may never be able to afford. So Sorry! Please move aside and make room. Next?!
* for 30 days, on American taxpayer credit, to be charged $9.99 thereafter a month for continued use, if necessary or so desired
** ‘you ‘ denotes any US citizen anywhere, on or off American soil. See the Patriot Act for further reading
***in a flex plan catered to current political unrest akin to arab spring but potentially closer to home
**** just like us
by Katya Blue
, 07/13 katyamills.com