Because verbalizing it is too heavy. Because my guitars are stowed away in their cases in my closet under toolboxes and dirty clothes and that's too much effort. Because my piano is on its side against the wall behind the couch. Because it has to come out somehow and these days I don't write enough.
I nearly broke down when the mint-chocolate chip cookies didn't mix right. I bought the Earth Balance made with olive oil when I should have just bought the regular one. I had guests but I stopped speaking. I drank my wine in defeat. Don't worry about it ....
I don't want to write anymore. I don't want to try and explain what those cookies represented to me. What was supposed to be the thick and creamy dough, now all powdery and dry, was God meeting me as an adversary. In the formless crumbles was me and in me everything I love breaking apart in my hand, sending light to my eyes interpreted by my brain transmitting signals to my hand decoded into hold on.
God laughed at me.
In some new light I'll wake up refreshed and all 'at peace' and other stupid phrases. As for tonight, on this very merry Christmas, life is cold, death is inevitable while grief is impossible, we are ants and God is a bully with a magnifying glass.
I will suffer through loss until I become it, fa la la la la, la la la la.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Stir Me in My Sleep
Last night in my dream I saw happiness on the other side of a door I could not fit through.
Monday, April 26, 2010
They're Fighting Again
All the soldiers in my heart.
Comfort vs. punishment, just skirmishes now, but ... she'll wake soon.
I need rest I need nourishment I need love I need to write this down before I sleep. I want all of it and none of it, and darkness keeps the score though the outcome is bought.
There's a cross here in this cemetery I visit and on it should be the name of the lover I grieve but instead it is faith herself buried.
I brought you a flower and something I wrote so when you wake up you'll remember me.
You should have waited for me.
I didn't know it but when I left the next morning I would never see her again.
Soldier on, soldier on, keep your heart close to the ground.
Comfort vs. punishment, just skirmishes now, but ... she'll wake soon.
I need rest I need nourishment I need love I need to write this down before I sleep. I want all of it and none of it, and darkness keeps the score though the outcome is bought.
There's a cross here in this cemetery I visit and on it should be the name of the lover I grieve but instead it is faith herself buried.
I brought you a flower and something I wrote so when you wake up you'll remember me.
You should have waited for me.
I didn't know it but when I left the next morning I would never see her again.
Soldier on, soldier on, keep your heart close to the ground.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Last Night a Visitor
For the first time since her death Sarah played a small role in last night's dream, what I remember of it.
The guitar intro for What Should be Familiar had begun; I was still getting ready in the bathroom and none of the audience knew I was there. It had been billed as an emberghost reunion show, but we intentionally kept it quiet as to whether it would actually include me. I was still getting fired up backstage, excited as hell, as Daniel Alden sang the first verse. He did surprisingly well (not that he's a bad singer) and I was impressed.
Sarah sang her part and I emerged just in time to sing the prechorus with her: And the wait is over! We smiled at each other as we held a high note in harmony and the room was electric. We sang the chorus on the floor among the audience and they loved us for it but we loved them more.
Before the next song could begin, she turned to me and asked if we could do a different one instead. She named it but I can't remember what she said. It was one I didn't know, and I considered my eagerness to get to My Purple Heart and The Merely Ghosts and And Spirit Rise and even Twilight ... she smiled excitedly and I couldn't resist her and I shrugged.
"Sure."
She opened her mouth to sing and I woke up.
The guitar intro for What Should be Familiar had begun; I was still getting ready in the bathroom and none of the audience knew I was there. It had been billed as an emberghost reunion show, but we intentionally kept it quiet as to whether it would actually include me. I was still getting fired up backstage, excited as hell, as Daniel Alden sang the first verse. He did surprisingly well (not that he's a bad singer) and I was impressed.
Sarah sang her part and I emerged just in time to sing the prechorus with her: And the wait is over! We smiled at each other as we held a high note in harmony and the room was electric. We sang the chorus on the floor among the audience and they loved us for it but we loved them more.
Before the next song could begin, she turned to me and asked if we could do a different one instead. She named it but I can't remember what she said. It was one I didn't know, and I considered my eagerness to get to My Purple Heart and The Merely Ghosts and And Spirit Rise and even Twilight ... she smiled excitedly and I couldn't resist her and I shrugged.
"Sure."
She opened her mouth to sing and I woke up.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
5 Things That Will Die Before I Do
1. Whaling
2. The Canadian Seal Slaughter
3. Ringling Bros. Circus
4. SeaWorld
5. Brookstone's Exploitation of Frogs
I'll get a tattoo for each, and have them marked off after each victory. Crazy? Damn right. As the wise Martin Lawrence said in Bad Boys II, shit just got real.
2. The Canadian Seal Slaughter
3. Ringling Bros. Circus
4. SeaWorld
5. Brookstone's Exploitation of Frogs
I'll get a tattoo for each, and have them marked off after each victory. Crazy? Damn right. As the wise Martin Lawrence said in Bad Boys II, shit just got real.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Sometimes We Should Listen
Note: This isn't all going to make sense. They're ... thoughts, and ... it's late.
Liberation is a constant theme in my life.
The most obvious example being my work for animal liberation; we hard-line activists aren't just dietary vegans, but abolitionists fighting for the freedom of all God's creatures great and small. More on that later.
Several people in my life know what's better for me than I do. And though I'm a difficult person to confront, whether it's a sudden lull in the rhythm of the conversation or a palpably tense sigh, those that love me the most give themselves away too easily. The trigger for this was the simple mention of a name. This particular name was associated with a great deal of heartache, and my lovely friends, seeing my vulnerability, instinctively grew fiercely protective ... claws out, guns drawn.
And ... rightly so.
And ... it didn't matter. I hurt myself today to see if I still feel ...
I've avoided Biblical references lately, given my own conflicted thoughts on what the scribes intended and what's actually in that New Kings James Version, and I'll get to my point now.
And a voice was heard in Ramah, Rachel weeping in the wilderness, refusing to be comforted, because her children were no more.
I love this passage because I can relate to it. I haven't lost any children, much less fathered any, but I've dealt with pain so profound that I didn't want to feel better. The worst thing you can say to a person in state like that is "Everything's gonna be OK."
Because that's just not true.
And I'm sorry, but I'm tired now, and a good sleep is my only comfort
The other part of that is the attachment to grief. Somehow we're comfortable with the discomfort. The idyllic arouses suspicion; the desert lets us hope. And it's not just grief, but all sorts of things we know are bad for us, but yet they provide an illusion of normalcy and routine ... it's as if a parasite thrives on our unhappiness and so tricks us into destructive patterns and we named the parasite Fluffy.
That's when we need our friends to rescue us. To sigh aloud with disdain when we mention Fluffy, and to stick with us until we see the light.
I should have listened to my friends all along. Maggie, David, Jess, Nicole, Jeanne ... because having finally taken their advice, I feel ... liberated. And this wasn't just a deleted number and a Remove From Friends. This was an intentional, calculated purge, freeing up my heart and mind of the baggage that's been weighing on them for years now.
Jeanne, writing in her most recent note about going vegetarian, wrote I can't go back.
Neither can I. It's better out here, free from what I thought I loved most. I understand that now.
Carnivores don't understand that once your body has rid itself of meat (also known as the bloody, chemical-laden flesh of dead, tortured animals, to put it mildly) for a certain amount of time and then given a chance to recover, the thought of consuming it becomes revolting. But even if it didn't, living clean, healthy, environmentally conscience (the meat industry contributes to the destruction of the earth more than all other industries combined), compassionate and cruelty-free is such a joyful, satisfying way of life ... and the more you embrace the culture, the happier you are to be a part of it.
The whole world looks different. More beautiful and more horrific all at once, but the freedom tastes so much better than the shit they'd been selling you.
This is dedicated to Melissa and Jeanne. The veil is removed, and you'll find that this is a strange, often uncomfortable new world. There will be adversaries at every step, along with challenges and inconveniences. Just be thankful you've got Gardein. What you don't yet realize is how important this choice is, and how much of an impact you're making. Do no let anyone tell you any different, and if they insist, you can always call me in for backup. And on a personal note, you leave me encouraged and inspired. You give me hope.
And hope is delicious. Organic, too!
Liberation is a constant theme in my life.
The most obvious example being my work for animal liberation; we hard-line activists aren't just dietary vegans, but abolitionists fighting for the freedom of all God's creatures great and small. More on that later.
Several people in my life know what's better for me than I do. And though I'm a difficult person to confront, whether it's a sudden lull in the rhythm of the conversation or a palpably tense sigh, those that love me the most give themselves away too easily. The trigger for this was the simple mention of a name. This particular name was associated with a great deal of heartache, and my lovely friends, seeing my vulnerability, instinctively grew fiercely protective ... claws out, guns drawn.
And ... rightly so.
And ... it didn't matter. I hurt myself today to see if I still feel ...
I've avoided Biblical references lately, given my own conflicted thoughts on what the scribes intended and what's actually in that New Kings James Version, and I'll get to my point now.
And a voice was heard in Ramah, Rachel weeping in the wilderness, refusing to be comforted, because her children were no more.
I love this passage because I can relate to it. I haven't lost any children, much less fathered any, but I've dealt with pain so profound that I didn't want to feel better. The worst thing you can say to a person in state like that is "Everything's gonna be OK."
Because that's just not true.
And I'm sorry, but I'm tired now, and a good sleep is my only comfort
The other part of that is the attachment to grief. Somehow we're comfortable with the discomfort. The idyllic arouses suspicion; the desert lets us hope. And it's not just grief, but all sorts of things we know are bad for us, but yet they provide an illusion of normalcy and routine ... it's as if a parasite thrives on our unhappiness and so tricks us into destructive patterns and we named the parasite Fluffy.
That's when we need our friends to rescue us. To sigh aloud with disdain when we mention Fluffy, and to stick with us until we see the light.
I should have listened to my friends all along. Maggie, David, Jess, Nicole, Jeanne ... because having finally taken their advice, I feel ... liberated. And this wasn't just a deleted number and a Remove From Friends. This was an intentional, calculated purge, freeing up my heart and mind of the baggage that's been weighing on them for years now.
Jeanne, writing in her most recent note about going vegetarian, wrote I can't go back.
Neither can I. It's better out here, free from what I thought I loved most. I understand that now.
Carnivores don't understand that once your body has rid itself of meat (also known as the bloody, chemical-laden flesh of dead, tortured animals, to put it mildly) for a certain amount of time and then given a chance to recover, the thought of consuming it becomes revolting. But even if it didn't, living clean, healthy, environmentally conscience (the meat industry contributes to the destruction of the earth more than all other industries combined), compassionate and cruelty-free is such a joyful, satisfying way of life ... and the more you embrace the culture, the happier you are to be a part of it.
The whole world looks different. More beautiful and more horrific all at once, but the freedom tastes so much better than the shit they'd been selling you.
This is dedicated to Melissa and Jeanne. The veil is removed, and you'll find that this is a strange, often uncomfortable new world. There will be adversaries at every step, along with challenges and inconveniences. Just be thankful you've got Gardein. What you don't yet realize is how important this choice is, and how much of an impact you're making. Do no let anyone tell you any different, and if they insist, you can always call me in for backup. And on a personal note, you leave me encouraged and inspired. You give me hope.
And hope is delicious. Organic, too!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Identify Poison, Administer Anti-Venom
Where do I start?
I don't write as much, I know. It's because I don't have a laptop. But soon, my dear little loves. Soon.
Let's get some things out of the way.
I'm fired up about this SeaWorld thing. Keeping orcas (and any other animal, really) in captivity the way they do is immoral and there is no justification for it. I was a diver there, I've been behind the scenes, and I know what really goes on, so let's not debate this, OK? Yes, this where you realize that if anyone transcends the animal rights vs. SeaWorld gap, it's me.
Moving on.
I'm steadily removing toxins from my life. From a dietary perspective, I've never understood how folks can learn about what this chemical or that preservative does to one's body yet lack the discipline and self-respect to abstain from that which is harmful. Soda is a perfect example. Now, I love Coca-Cola. LOVE it. But when I learned that soda, without the phosphoric acid, would be so sweet that you would vomit, and that without the corn syrup, it would be so acidic that it would burn, well...
Fuck Coke.
I just don't want to drink sugar & acid. Pious Christians point to my tattoos with an especially irritating reminder that "the body is a temple." Turns out I agree with them, but, like Christ (I know, I'm so Christ-like, right?), I'm more concerned with what's on the inside. And what I don't want is a year's supply of sugar mixed with an acid that can remove corrosion from my car battery in a convenient 12 oz. can.
Why would anyone? Brilliant marketing and deeply embedded sentimentality, I reckon. Oh, and ... it tastes good. And that's a pretty good logo. Oh, and the way it bites when it goes down ... Mmm... Get behind thee, Satan.
For the most part, this has been easy for me, even with things I have a special fondness for. Gelatin in Orbit? Gone. Fish bladder in Guinness? Gone (and that was my favorite beer). Hydrogenated oils in Peter Pan peanut butter? Hello, Skippy Natural. Pesticides on non-organic apples? I'll pay the extra dollar.
Meat and eggs and cheese were all easy for me to give up (the idea of consuming them has since become repulsive), but I've misplaced my soapbox for the evening, so relax.
What challenged me this week was when I attended a lecture by Dr. Gregor.
Dr. Gregor gave an incredibly entertaining and informative talk, and I encourage all 3 of you that read this to find his lecture on YouTube or even order a DVD from him.
Dr. Gregor came with some good news: Garlic is really, really good for you. I love garlic! But you've got to let it sit out for at least 20 minutes after you mince ... OK ... noted ... thanks, Doc. Fatty dressings are better than oil-based dressings and help you absorb the nutrients. Interesting!
Your cat helps keep cancer at bay. What? Really ... hmm ... ok, then! The aluminum in your deodorant will give you crazy disease. Ha! My deodorant is aluminum-free! One step ahead of you, doc.
Ugh. John McCain. What a whiny little... Sorry, they're recapping the health care summit on CNN. Oh my gosh, how good is this season of LOST? I'm on a horse.
But, Dr. Gregor came with bad news: Potatoes are toxic. Crap! Good thing I like sweet potatoes ...
Coconut milk is as fatty as lard. So much for SoDelicious ice cream sandwiches.
Chlorella and spirulina can kill you ("Plants are good, but not plants that bite back.") Chlorella? You mean like the blue-green algae in the Naked juices? CRAP! That's my favorite drink.
Oh, well. Time to get a juicer. They were expensive, anyway.
And just like that, I've given up potatoes (don't know if I could do that if it weren't for sweet potatoes, which are really good for you, it turns out), raw mushrooms (they can also kill you), coconut milk (but not coconut water, which is virtually human plasma), and ...sigh... NAKED's Green Machine juice.
I'm gonna make sure I get my B12, and I'll start incorporating more flax seed into my diet.
And just like that, I'm toxin-free.
Don't you wish you had my discipline?
But just when as I begin to mold my trophy out of solid gold, my flash-sideways self asks me a question:
"How easily you've purged these toxins from your body, why not the toxins in your thoughts and in your heart?"
Cripes. Introspection is such a downer.
But sideways-Parker has a valid point, and one I intend to address in my own life. I think it starts with identifying the poison. Once you've observed it carefully under a microscope and determined what it is, you can begin formulating, and finally administering, the anti-venom. The tricky part is committing to the extermination, because often, and certainly in my case, we are in love with the parasite that's made its home in our hearts. If you don't want to get wet, you've got to commit to the leap when crossing the river.
Why do I suddenly feel like I'm delivering a sermon?
For me, in the emotional landscape, it's more about who is toxic than what, and that's where I've got to begin. I keep my physical body free of toxins because I respect it (you would too if you had this body ... you were supposed to laugh), and clearly I've favored it over my heart and over my mind. I remarked to Nicole a while back that I was happy to see the discipline I exercise in my diet and at work begin to bleed into other areas of my life, like finances, and now it's time to let that discipline, that respect and careful guardianship, seep into the place it matters most.
A simple click on Remove from Friends is a good place to start.
But it's not just avoiding the detrimental. As important as it is for me to keep potassium sorbate out of my bloodstream, it's just as important to keep it stocked with complex carbohydrates and anti-oxidants; I have to learn to invite in what nurtures me. My tendency has been to avoid anything getting in for fear that it could, at any point, turn on me. This is a childhood toy, and it's time to put it away.
A simple Send Message is a good place to start. Nah. F that. Make a phone call, you lazy bastard.
I don't write as much, I know. It's because I don't have a laptop. But soon, my dear little loves. Soon.
Let's get some things out of the way.
I'm fired up about this SeaWorld thing. Keeping orcas (and any other animal, really) in captivity the way they do is immoral and there is no justification for it. I was a diver there, I've been behind the scenes, and I know what really goes on, so let's not debate this, OK? Yes, this where you realize that if anyone transcends the animal rights vs. SeaWorld gap, it's me.
Moving on.
I'm steadily removing toxins from my life. From a dietary perspective, I've never understood how folks can learn about what this chemical or that preservative does to one's body yet lack the discipline and self-respect to abstain from that which is harmful. Soda is a perfect example. Now, I love Coca-Cola. LOVE it. But when I learned that soda, without the phosphoric acid, would be so sweet that you would vomit, and that without the corn syrup, it would be so acidic that it would burn, well...
Fuck Coke.
I just don't want to drink sugar & acid. Pious Christians point to my tattoos with an especially irritating reminder that "the body is a temple." Turns out I agree with them, but, like Christ (I know, I'm so Christ-like, right?), I'm more concerned with what's on the inside. And what I don't want is a year's supply of sugar mixed with an acid that can remove corrosion from my car battery in a convenient 12 oz. can.
Why would anyone? Brilliant marketing and deeply embedded sentimentality, I reckon. Oh, and ... it tastes good. And that's a pretty good logo. Oh, and the way it bites when it goes down ... Mmm... Get behind thee, Satan.
For the most part, this has been easy for me, even with things I have a special fondness for. Gelatin in Orbit? Gone. Fish bladder in Guinness? Gone (and that was my favorite beer). Hydrogenated oils in Peter Pan peanut butter? Hello, Skippy Natural. Pesticides on non-organic apples? I'll pay the extra dollar.
Meat and eggs and cheese were all easy for me to give up (the idea of consuming them has since become repulsive), but I've misplaced my soapbox for the evening, so relax.
What challenged me this week was when I attended a lecture by Dr. Gregor.
Dr. Gregor gave an incredibly entertaining and informative talk, and I encourage all 3 of you that read this to find his lecture on YouTube or even order a DVD from him.
Dr. Gregor came with some good news: Garlic is really, really good for you. I love garlic! But you've got to let it sit out for at least 20 minutes after you mince ... OK ... noted ... thanks, Doc. Fatty dressings are better than oil-based dressings and help you absorb the nutrients. Interesting!
Your cat helps keep cancer at bay. What? Really ... hmm ... ok, then! The aluminum in your deodorant will give you crazy disease. Ha! My deodorant is aluminum-free! One step ahead of you, doc.
Ugh. John McCain. What a whiny little... Sorry, they're recapping the health care summit on CNN. Oh my gosh, how good is this season of LOST? I'm on a horse.
But, Dr. Gregor came with bad news: Potatoes are toxic. Crap! Good thing I like sweet potatoes ...
Coconut milk is as fatty as lard. So much for SoDelicious ice cream sandwiches.
Chlorella and spirulina can kill you ("Plants are good, but not plants that bite back.") Chlorella? You mean like the blue-green algae in the Naked juices? CRAP! That's my favorite drink.
Oh, well. Time to get a juicer. They were expensive, anyway.
And just like that, I've given up potatoes (don't know if I could do that if it weren't for sweet potatoes, which are really good for you, it turns out), raw mushrooms (they can also kill you), coconut milk (but not coconut water, which is virtually human plasma), and ...sigh... NAKED's Green Machine juice.
I'm gonna make sure I get my B12, and I'll start incorporating more flax seed into my diet.
And just like that, I'm toxin-free.
Don't you wish you had my discipline?
But just when as I begin to mold my trophy out of solid gold, my flash-sideways self asks me a question:
"How easily you've purged these toxins from your body, why not the toxins in your thoughts and in your heart?"
Cripes. Introspection is such a downer.
But sideways-Parker has a valid point, and one I intend to address in my own life. I think it starts with identifying the poison. Once you've observed it carefully under a microscope and determined what it is, you can begin formulating, and finally administering, the anti-venom. The tricky part is committing to the extermination, because often, and certainly in my case, we are in love with the parasite that's made its home in our hearts. If you don't want to get wet, you've got to commit to the leap when crossing the river.
Why do I suddenly feel like I'm delivering a sermon?
For me, in the emotional landscape, it's more about who is toxic than what, and that's where I've got to begin. I keep my physical body free of toxins because I respect it (you would too if you had this body ... you were supposed to laugh), and clearly I've favored it over my heart and over my mind. I remarked to Nicole a while back that I was happy to see the discipline I exercise in my diet and at work begin to bleed into other areas of my life, like finances, and now it's time to let that discipline, that respect and careful guardianship, seep into the place it matters most.
A simple click on Remove from Friends is a good place to start.
But it's not just avoiding the detrimental. As important as it is for me to keep potassium sorbate out of my bloodstream, it's just as important to keep it stocked with complex carbohydrates and anti-oxidants; I have to learn to invite in what nurtures me. My tendency has been to avoid anything getting in for fear that it could, at any point, turn on me. This is a childhood toy, and it's time to put it away.
A simple Send Message is a good place to start. Nah. F that. Make a phone call, you lazy bastard.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
