cheese/sentimentality/thinkin' about stuff

we carry so much baggage with us, the weight of our parents' stories and their parents' stories...traumas and past lives and expectations and pressures.  we change and shift and shrug.  we become stronger and we break open.

yes. ten years ago i was--not a different person--a different version of myself: the ghost of a stone sculpture not yet articulated in sensuous curves and sharp-edged hollows.  i was a dream and a spark of what i am now...and right now, i am a spark of what i will become.

do we ever really get to reach our highest form?  yes.  maybe not while we are alive, but we are born with this perfection, this blazing joyful soul that becomes veiled as we age and learn and become burdened with knowledge and avoidance--and we return to that state in death.  i suppose select few make that transition while in human form: these are the Buddhas and Jesus Christs and Mohammeds and Mother Theresas, the anonymous ones who drag dying brothers to safety and who spend their days feeding and bathing the sick.  But most of us are trying to flip the Rubix cube while we are half-blind and roaring for affection and recognition.

i am no expert in love, though i know that i crave it and need it as much as i need water to keep my body running smoothly, as i crave pieces of dark chocolate on a select few days out of every month.  i know that love has many masks...and that love unmasked is more powerful than the weapons our government spends billions on every week.  i know that i can convince myself that i have it, that i am in it--or that i don't have it and won't ever know it, not truly.

the truth is that i am looking for the freedom that comes from pairing with a person who can look me in the eye as i lay down my burden of stories.  i need a best friend who will cherish me and call me out on my shit.  someone who is imperfect and adept like a chameleon, shifting to fit a mood, a mode of communication, a moment when i am glorious and frightening.  i need a lover who can undress me, and a confidante who can hold me when my mother dies--a partner who will have my back when i'm faced with a gang of demons ready to bludgeon me to death with their stinking fear, and a companion who will play Twister with me while Tom Waits, followed by Radiohead, followed by BB King, followed by Mozart plays on and on and on...

in return, i will offer every bit of who i am.  i will be lovely and sexy and honest and jealous.  i will cry and kiss and soothe with my fingertips.  i will complain and apologize and praise and bless.  i will be there, even when i am not.  i, too will be imperfect, and i will try so hard.  and i will back off and run away, but i will always come back.  and when our paths part, i will still love you.  and when we meet up again, i will not love you less. 

feminism ain't about equality, it's about reprieve

amendment 
written by ani difranco

wouldn't it be nice if
we had an amendment
to give civil rights to
women
to once and for all just
really lay it down from
the point of view of
women
i know what you're thinkin'
that's just redundant
chicks got it good now
they can almost be president
but it's worker against worker
time and time again
'cause the rich use certain issues as a tool
and when i say we need the ERA it ain't 'cause i'm a fool
it's 'cause without it, nobody can get away with anything cool

you don't have to go far, like
just over to Canada
to feel a heightened sense of "live-and-let-live"
what is it about Americans, like so many pitbulls
trained to attack and never give
we gotta put down abortion
put it down in the books for good
as central to the civil rights
of women
make diversity legal
make it finally understood
to the civil rights of
women
and if you don't like abortion
don't have an abortion
and teach your children
how they can avoid them
but don't treat all women
like they are your children
compassion has many faces, many names
and if men can kill and be decorated instead of blamed
than a woman called upon to mother can choose to refrain

and contrary to eons
of old-time religion
your body's your only
true dominion
Nature is not here to serve you
or at any cost to preserve you
that's just some preacher man's
old-time opinion
life is sacred
life is also profane
a women's life it must be hers to name
let an amendment
put this brutal game to rest
trust that women will still take you to their breast
trust that women will always do their best
trust that differences make us stronger, not less

in this amendment shall be
"family structures shall be free"
we'll have the right to civil union
it takes unions of all kinds
unions of hearts and minds
to give society communion
let's do more than tolerate
let gay and straight resonate
and emanate all that is human
with equal rights and
equal protection
intolerance finally
ruined
and then there's the kids' rights
they'll naturally be on board
the funnel through which
women's lives are poured
our family is so big
we're all so very small
let a web of relationship
be laid over it all
over the strata of power piled up to the sky
over the illusion of autonomy on which it relies
over any absolute that nature does not supply

and the birthing woman shall regain her place
in a circle of women in a sacred space
turn off the machines
put away the knives
this amendment shall deliver from bondage
midwives

i woke up from a 20-minute nap and i was different somehow

i will take the path through the dark
though they're hot upon my heels
i will sail those thousand seas
for i am nothing 
without love

from the song Those Thousand Seas by Claire Tchaikowski


forgive.  smile.  play.  take the time to understand your enemies.  bear forth your broken heart for all to see, then watch as you pull it together and realize your radiant self.  cry.  grieve.  admit defeat and vow revenge...but then soften your anger into sorrow.  take a walk by yourself in the woods--on the beach--and rediscover the cosmos in the curve of a fern or shell.  hum.  sing.  scream at the top of your lungs or sob into your bathwater until it aches.  call someone you haven't in awhile.  ask them questions that have nothing to do with the weather.  express gratitude.  pray with your feet.  drown in booze and wake up thick with regret...then venture out into the sun and sip on tea.  move.  breathe.  eat fruit.  contemplate dyeing your hair...and then don't because no one else needs to know you're in crisis.  touch yourself.  find yourself ravishing.  release and crumple back into the sheets.  cook.  clean.  rearrange the furniture.  cut your toenails and your pants into shorts.  dream.  imagine.  you're traveling...where to?  who do you meet?  what do you say?  how do you feel?  when you are standing alone, are you the same?  when you are together, do you change?  reflect.  meditate.  illuminate the dark spaces that you've always feared.  and love.

love.

love.

above all: love.

date rape, robert garza

going back through my journals, i realize how lost and scared and confused i was.  the perfect prey.

robert...what the fuck was your last name? garcia?  you worked at the Thousand Oaks Healing Arts Institute in Reseda in 2005, i know that for sure.  Garza.  Robert Garza.  you work at the Hands On Healing Institute in Tujunga, as well.

looking back, i can't believe i didn't recognize how creepy you were.  what was i thinking?  probably rationalizing, while my intuition, straitjacketed in starvation and malnutrition and depression, was feebly begging me to run the other way.  you were 41; i was 24.

i went with you on a road trip to San Francisco and Lake Tahoe during Christmas of 2005--my first Christmas away from my family.  i had already told you i did not want any romantic relationship.  i was willing to travel with you as a friend.  i could get out of Camarillo, see the snow, learn how it is in other families during the holidays.

i don't know if you planned it.  maybe it was just a spontaneous thought--you brought some for yourself and figured you'd see what my reaction might be.  either way, you gave me one magic pill before we left for the jazz clubs: Magic X.  i believe i was drinking martinis.  you gave me another one before we even got to the next club.  you would end up giving me 3 tablets of ecstasy within 3 hours.  thanks for the introduction to your favorite drug of choice.  and you're a professional in the health field?  scary.

i remember being back at the hotel room.  i remember getting undressed: i don't know if it was you or i who did it.  but we ended up in bed together.  eventually--probably sometime during the wee hours of the next morning--i made my way, vomiting, to the toilet.  you watched as i teetered in front of the bathroom mirror, as my legs buckled underneath me.  you told me later that you caught me just before my head hit the corner of the bathroom counter.  my hero.

i remember making it back to the hotel bed.  i remember drifting in and out of consciousness; at one point i heard the housekeeper banging on the door to be let it.  check out was at noon, but i couldn't regain full consciousness until at least 4pm.  you've must have been scared shitless, wondering if someone was going to find out that you had a semi-conscious young woman half-naked in your bed with a duffel bag full of pot and e and who knows what else.  i know we eventually made it out of there.  when i regained my strength, i vowed never to let you touch me again.

i tried to stay away from you while we were in Tahoe, sharing a room at your friend's house.  i engaged in playing with her three children, even had fun sledding down the hills near the neighborhood.  you attempted to apologize, giving me little trinkets and gifts.  i wanted nothing to do with you; i was only biding my time until i could go home.  you confronted me, saying i was being ungrateful and rude.  i was incredulous that you could accuse me as such, and asked what exactly it was you wanted from me.  "Affection," you said.  i told you that warmth was the last thing i felt for you and tried to leave the room, but you followed me upstairs and closed the door behind you.  this was when the little hairs all stood up on the back of my neck.  i was cornered like an animal, and like an animal whose life is threatened, i became all adrenaline and rage.  you got in my face and hissed again about me being ungrateful (for you overdosing me?!?) and i have never EVER been so close to punching a grown man in the face before.  i growled something like "get out of my way" and something in my eyes must have shown you that i meant it.  you stepped aside and i ran out the door, down the stairs, out of the house and into the snow.

our last confrontation came after we returned to Southern California.  we were both scheduled for work that day at the chiropractic office.  i avoided you: no eye contact, no words spoken.  after my last massage, you came into my room while i was stripping the bed of sheets and packing up to go home.  "I just want to talk," you said.  then you closed the door.  again, cornered.  again, adrenaline.  i tried to pack up as fast as i could so i could flee before you tried anything.  i was terrified.  i should have just left right then, or screamed bloody murder.  but i didn't.  "Don't touch me," i hissed.  "Get the fuck away from me."  i made it out with my things as you insisted that i was over-reacting and that you just wanted to talk.  i got in my car and sped off until i was out of sight...then i pulled into a parking lot, killed the engine and burst into tears, shaking uncontrollably.

i discussed what had happened later with a friend who happened to be a law school dropout.  "Write a letter," she advised me.  i did.  i made 3 copies: one for me, one for you and one for our supervisor.  it said that i had dated you and broken off the relationship, and that i wanted nothing more to do with you.  if you looked at me, touched me, spoke to me or in any way made me feel uncomfortable in my place of work, i would demand you be fired...and if you were not, i would sue the office.

i never heard from you again.

i feel sorry for you.  you are one sick bastard.  i hope you are no longer a massage therapist.  i hope you haven't had the chance to victimize any other girls or women; but if you have, i hope they've had the courage to press charges and incarcerate you.  i've held this secret for a very long time, letting it poison me.  it feels good to finally tell the truth.

10 of wands

my "Harsh Truths" reading this morning looked something like this:

WHAT I WANT TO SEE/BELIEVE:
ace of wands: passion, optimism, enthusiasm, drive, beginnings, the source.

i want to believe that i have the drive, the wellspring of energy, the optimism to support my own passions and recovery--to realize my full potential and come to a place of wholeness.  i also want to support the people i love as well: to encourage, to help with the processing of events and experiences, to nurture and provide safety for them.


WHAT I DON'T WANT TO SEE/BELIEVE:
xv the devil: temptation, obsession, addiction, unbridled desires, wild behavior, a lust for life.

i get obsessive about things; i fixate on a challenge or a task until it obliterates the balance in my life.  i restrict my existence--food, sex, emotions, money--until the buildup of "being good" erupts into the wildness of a binge.  by the time i realize what has happened, i am left panting and exhausted...and alone.


WHAT IS TRUE:
iv the emperor: ambition, courage, motivation, rational thought, conquest, legacy

i am the king: i am in control of my environment, my body, my temper, my instincts, my love life.  this is not the time to give in to the needs/wants of others.  if my kingdom is unpleasant and wretched to oversee, then it is by my own doing.


WHAT I WANT TO HAPPEN:
8 of wands: excitement, bliss, euphoria, rapture, ecstasy, nirvana, pleasure

i want to have no fear, no obstacles to my bliss.  i want to live, love, laugh in joy--without stress, without worry.  i want to look my demons in the face and laugh until i cry.  i want to be wildly happy and experience transcendent pleasure...and i deserve it.


WHAT I DON'T WANT TO HAPPEN:
9 of swords: despair, worry, pressure, guilt, depression, hopelessness, melancholy

i've been here before, and it is a brutal country.  i don't care to return.  as it is, i am worried about slipping into that dark hole, the place where my strength and stubbornness is what keeps me from catapulting out.  it's just a bad dream--WAKE UP.


WHAT WILL HAPPEN:
10 of wands: declaration, warning, advice, guidance, dissuasion, caution

fitting that i begin at the ace and end at the 10.  i have taken up the burden in order to gain some illusion of control.  i cannot save anyone, nor do i have the energy.  the advice is to put down that which is unnecessary, that which is sapping my strength.  what is it that i am putting more into than i get out of?  let it go.  i am done.  time to restore my energy.

i hate television, but a phrase i heard last night stuck with me through some pretty intense dreams into the morning:  "Sometimes you just have to accept that you can't save everyone."

i am not Florence Nightingale.  I am Melanie Tormos, and my whole life is ahead of me.