When There's Nothing Left to Burn ...

... You Must Set Yourself On Fire.

I've become obsessed with this song from the band Stars. It's called "Your Ex-Lover is Dead." It combines a myriad of instruments, which always makes me fall in love with a song. Always. They're introduced gradually, too, and there are lots of crescendos and decrescendos. It brings out my inner band geek.

Anyway, the song makes feel all kinds of -- melancholy. With twinges of something else. There may be a glimmer of happiness in there, for some strange reason or another, but generally, the tone of the song is one of longing, regret, and over-all sadness. I can't help it!: no matter how happy I am, I always love sad music. It reaches me on a different, deeper plane than any happy song ever could. I think it may be because sadness is one of life's ultimate equalizer. Not everyone becomes happy for the same reason; some people may find happiness when buying something, others when driving a fast sports car, while others find it in the company of others. Sadness, however, everyone feels, and for many of the same reasons. Losing love, death, falling out of touch with a friend, separation, and so on. Perhaps that's why I can't help but gravitate towards sad music. More than that, sad music that makes me think. Oh, what an intoxicating combination for me. Play a Death Cab For Cutie song, and you had me at "Love of mine ..."

God, that was strange to see you again.
Introduced by a friend of a friend,
Smiled and said, "Yes, I think we've met before."
In that instant, it started to pour.

Sometimes I wonder about the people who come into my life. Into everyone's lives. There's that very cheesy saying of how some people come in for a reason or a season, something something something. But I suppose that underneath all of that "Hallmark Fluff," there's some truth to it.

I try to stay in the present moment. I try very hard to do that. But sometimes, I get lost in my thoughts. It's a bad habit, but I like finding sanctuary there. It's like coming home after a long trip away and plopping down in your most favorite chair. You know you won't have the energy to get up and unpack your belongings, but it just feels so good to relax a moment. That's how it gets when I start thinking. I know that it will hinder me from doing other things, but sometimes, I just have to process the hodge podge of thoughts that are scattered about my cranial space. It's the only way I'll survive to the next day.

But anyway, despite my attempt at honest Buddhism and staying ever present in the moment, I think about the people in my life. I wonder who's going to be here for years, who's going to be here for days, for months, perhaps always. I wonder what purpose each person has in my life -- and truly, they all have some kind of purpose. Whether it's a friend who makes me smile at exactly the right moment, or someone who redeems my faith in others, or someone who shows me kinds of love that I've not yet known or understood or thought existed, they all have a purpose. Perhaps this is a selfish way of thinking, that everyone has a reason in my life. But how else can I relate things if not to myself?

Captured a taxi despite all the rain.
We drove in silence across Pont Champlain.
And all of the time you thought I was sad;
I was trying to remember your name.

I think about the people who've come and gone out of my daily life. I had to let go of some unwillingly. Others left when it was their time to leave. Some were in between. I wonder what it would be like to run into some of these people again, especially the ones who left some kind of imprint on me -- whether good or bad. I wonder how I would handle a run-in situation, how my compassion and love would hold up against, say, someone who hurt me in the past. I wonder if I would be reminded of distant memories that have been only collecting dust in the archives of my mind. I wonder if I would remember that person's story. Or if I would recognize him/her at all.

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin.
Tried to reach deep, but you couldn't get in.
Now you're outside me, you see all the beauty,
Repent all your sin.

Not surprisingly, I think about the last person I gave my heart to. I think about the last person I trusted so fully -- perhaps too fully -- who crushed whatever hope I may have had. I harbored a lot of anger and a lot of resentment for a very long time. Seven years, in fact. The anger and resentment would start off the emotional playlist, until I eventually wound up feeling worthless, wondering what I could have done to have made him stay or made him change his mind. Anything.

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose.
I chose to feel it, and you couldn't choose.
I'll write you a postcard,
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love.

But then I realize -- he lived out his purpose in my life. He brought many good things to me, and I'll keep many of those fond memories with me as I go through life. He brought bad things to me, as well, but I've come to see them in a positive light. He hurt me, but I learned how to heal. I learned how to stand on my own two feet, to figure out who I am before attempting to give myself to another. I learned what I wanted in someone else and what I most definitely didn't want. I suppose he ended up giving me more good things than I realized, though it took me a long time to come to that realization.

And, without all of these things and all of this growth that he inadvertently made happen, I wouldn't be where I am today. I wouldn't be as happy as I am today, relationship-wise. I don't think I would have ever been open to a relationship had it not been for the pain that I had to wade through years ago. I wouldn't be able to appreciate all of the wonderful things about who I'm with now if I hadn't lamented over all of the bad things about the other. Because of that sadness, I fully understand and am grateful for every second of happiness that I have now in my relationship. It is a rare day that I do not wake up and immediately thank the Universe for all that I am blessed with -- for who I am, for who I am with, for who he makes me, every day. I don't think I would be able to understand all of this if I had no frame of pained reference.

Live through this, and you won't look back.
Live through this, and you won't look back.
Live through this, and you won't look back.

I guess the whole point of it all is that we don't know why people are in our lives. We don't know if they'll bring us immense joy or immense sadness. We don't know if we will have to let them go. We don't know if we will even remember them at all in years to come. All we can do is be thankful that we can experience them, that we can know them. We can experience people in ways that animals can't. We must relish every second that we have with another person, whether good or bad, for what else is life but a string of a few, scattered, important moments? We can choose to be angry. We can choose to be sad. But in the end, it doesn't really matter.

In the end, all you can do is love. All you can do is let go.

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave:
You were what I wanted,
I gave what I gave.
I'm not sorry I met you,
I'm not sorry it's over,
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save,
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save.

- May (you love, unconditionally).

Bolded sections are lyrics to the song, "Your Ex-Lover is Dead," by Stars.

Brainwashing.

My brain is dead, after having written about 10 pages about the links between democracy and the media. I feel like I ended up going on a rant towards the end, about how the media is more or less making us all mindless, gray blobs. No one questions things. No one asks "why?" or "how?" anymore. People take things as fact, at face value, and are too lazy (and/or too apathetic) to do any more research.

I was watching videos about Shirley Phelps-Roper. I'm pretty sure I've talked about her before. But in case you don't know who she is, she's this insane, insane woman who is a part of the Westboro Baptist Church. The Church has about 100 members, mostly made up of her family. They protest and picket the funeral marches of soldiers who are killed in Iraq. They carry signs that say, "God Hates Fags" and "God Loves Dead Soldiers." They promote hatred and malice under God's name. They say that we sin by accepting homosexuality, and that's why people are killed. She believes that the young Amish girls who were shot to death last summer deserved to die -- not because they did anything wrong, necessarily, but because of Adam's Original Sin. And yet, she and her family are untouchable, because they're spreading this message and "enlightening" the world.

The liberal in me says that everyone is allowed to have his/her own opinion. And I believe that, though I don't agree with many of them. But there is such an extreme amount of variance in the human race that to say that everyone should think the same way is ridiculous. The Buddhist in me says to detach myself from what she says and to disassociate myself from such negative energy. The human in me becomes angry every time I hear her talk in such a way. It's a weird threeway tug-of-war that goes on inside of me at listening to this manic woman.

And then it makes me turn inward. What sort of things do I promote, and do I promote anything to such extreme levels? I examine myself and my life and my message. I can't imagine I've ever promoted hatred of any kind - and if I ever have, my Universe, I am sorry for it. I like to think that I would never intentionally do such a thing. And all of this introspection reminds me that I must live a life for love. For peace. For happiness. For energy. For balance. For myself. For others.

I try to channel the positive forces within me that tell me stay true to my Lo(ve)-Fi and Om tattoos. Receive love from other people (and do not be afraid of it) and send the signal back out, stronger. Even when forces against me are trying to steal it away. Stay balanced and in tune with myself and the rest of the Universe. Turn negatives into positives.

Be happy.

If I could somehow get this tattooed on my body, I would. The following excerpt, from Carl Sagan (1994), is one of my all-time favorites. It is based upon the picture below, a picture of earth taken from the edge of our galaxy.

Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.

-- Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

- May (you never be afraid of what's inside).

Renewal.

There's something that the very wise and very profound Jason Mraz said in a blog post a while back. He said something about how you have to look through the eyes of a hypothetical tourist - always seeing something as though it's for the first time. It keeps life interesting and keeps you in gratitude for being where you are at that particular moment in time. It keeps you IN that particular moment in time, period. Things look new. Things are exciting. Things are worthy of attention. There's no skimming through a town, letting the scenery around you blur into an obscure oblivion. You are there, and no where else.

It was such a simple, yet powerful suggestion for me. I've kept it in the back of my mind since I read it however many months ago. But it wasn't until recently that I started trying to put it into practice.

Every time I come home, I try to notice something different about my house, or my street, or my neighborhood. At least one thing, every time. Some of the thoughts I've had over the past few days have been the way the hedges by the kitchen window never really grow in quite right, or the hole that still remains from when my first dog, Freckles, ripped the soil out of the ground (I was about three at the time), or the little web a spider made on the lamp post by the driveway, or the way the houses around me have changed and morphed over time. And I try to make them insignificant things -- the types of things I would be looking for if I were in an alien place.

I've been trying to do it at work, too. I noticed the clicking of the doors as they open and close, the particular smell of computers and ipods and air conditioning that I remember from when I walked in for my first day back in September, the sound my Converse no-lace-ups make on the hardwood floor, the beeping of locker combinations and restricted-access rooms' key pads, sounds of laughter and of frustration, the random pictures that are scattered around.

Jason Mraz was onto something when he suggested this. Not only am I ever mindful in every moment that comes my way, I am grateful for every single one of them. Even the frustrating ones. Even the ones where my brain fizzles, and I swear I am on my last bit of hope for the human race. I am still grateful because I am still here. I am breathing. I can smile and I can love and I can laugh and I can hug.

I am alive.

Are you?

- May (you not only walk a mile in a stranger's shoes, but live a lifetime through his eyes).

Sticks and Stones .. And Sand .. And Pebbles .. And Beer?

A friend of mine just sent this to me in an email. I thought I'd share it.

A philosophy professor stood before his class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he pick up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, rocks about 2 inches in diameter.

He then asked the students if the jar was full? They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, or course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous- yes!

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and proceeded to pour their entire contents into the jar- effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.



"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided. "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things- your family, your partner, your health, your children- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car, the sand is everything else- the small stuff."

"If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued "there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal. Take care of the rocks first--the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand."

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented. The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple beers!"



- May (you gather the right stones).

Reconciling Possibilty

Funny the way it is, if you think about it:
Somebody's going hungry and someone else is eating out.
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong.
Somebody's heart is broken and it becomes your favorite song.

My thoughts always seem to jump from one topic to the next, like a skilled acrobat in some circus production I don't quite understand. Maybe it's the Cirque du Soleil of the mind that I'm viewing. The colors and movements are beautiful, fluid, but when it comes down to it -- it's a little too abstract to fully grasp. Maybe I'm not supposed to grasp it. Maybe I'm merely meant to be grateful to have thoughts at all.

Still, it makes me wonder. What I think about sometimes is what makes one person more fortunate than another? Why was I saved from what could have been a life of poverty, hunger, and despair when there are children who weren't saved? Why do I get paid to sit on the computer and answer phones when there are people who can't even imagine what a computer is? When there are people who've lost their jobs and are struggling to stay afloat? Why do I complain about different foods that I don't like to eat (namely, seafood) when there are children who haven't eaten in days?

What and where is the thread that separates the two worlds?

Funny the way it is, if you think about it:
One kid walks 10 miles to school, another's dropping out.
Funny the way it is, not right or wrong.
On a soldier's last breath, his baby's being born.

Perhaps we're not meant to know. I do think that a part of this life is the idea that we're meant to discover. We're meant to explore. We're meant to find the answers for ourselves. And maybe we'll never really find them. Maybe they will always elude us, like wisps of smoke. Maybe no matter how hard you try to curl your fingers around them, they will always seep through our grasp.

And, more importantly, maybe that's okay.

Maybe that's the Universe's way of telling us that there is always a reason to stay humble.

We are so insignificant when it boils down to it: we've been on earth for the shortest amount of time in comparison with animals, trees, and other means of life; no matter our technology, countries and people are still devastated by natural disasters; no matter what we do to try and stop those disasters, we cannot control Gaia when she's angry; we are easily swallowed up in the ocean, which is home to so many creatures that have adapted and evolved to live there, yet people still drown; despite our attempts to control and "domesticate" animals, they will always be higher than us on the food chain (think: tiger, lion, alligator, etc.); and we have been searching for the answers to life's biggest questions since the time of the Greek Philosophers but have come up with nothing.

I think a part of that is the fact that it depends upon your perception. The diversity amongst people is easily seen -- differences in tastes in movies, music, books; family traditions; differences between geographical location; varying accents; and so on and so forth. What I consider to be living "The Good Life" may not be what someone else considers. Someone may consider "The Good Life" only having the biggest house, the fastest cars, and the most expensive accessories. Others may consider it to be family and friends, to hell with the possessions.

But I think that, big or small, red or blue, here or there, we're all asking the same question: why?

Standing on a bridge, watch the water passing under me.
It must've been much harder when there was no bridge, just water.
Now the world is small.
Remember how it used to be with
Mountains and oceans and winters and rivers and stars?

I don't have an answer. I don't know why I was fortunate in ways when others weren't. I don't know why I am spoiled with air conditioning, technology, food when I'm hungry, a bed when I'm tired, a home to go back to at the end of the day. I don't know. But when and if I figure it out, I'll let you know.

Watch the sky, the jet planes, so far out of my reach
Is there someone up there looking down on me?

- May (you never stop wondering).

[Bolded text from "Funny the Way It Is," by Dave Matthews Band]

Reflecting Like a Mirror

I've been drinking O.N.E. Coconut Water with a heaping teaspoon of Vitamineral Green every morning this week. I've already felt the difference and it's ridiculous.

Let me give you a brief background. I am not a morning person. I have never been a morning person. Most times, if I had to wake up before noon, I'd grumble one-word responses and cut through anyone who looked at me wrong. Or looked at me, in general. My mom learned to avoid talking to me in the wee hours of the morning. Unless, of course, I'm carrying over from the night before. I'm a bit nocturnal -- I'd rather stay up 'til 5 or 6 AM from the night before than wake up at 5 or 6 AM.

But I knew that having a 9 - 5 office job meant having to be remotely sociable and human in the morning. So when I read about JMraz's use of Coconut H20 and Vitamineral Green to get himself energized, I knew it was exactly what I needed. And he wasn't lying, let me tell you. I feel so alert and connected with things around me whenever I've had it. I don't even crave coffee -- which is more or less a miracle in itself. I don't need it. And coffee, for me, took hours upon hours to actually kick in. And then it lasted a mere 15 minutes before I'd crash again, more tired than before ingestion. With this combination, though, I'm energized all day. It fills me up the way a good breakfast does. And man, does it clear me out.

Without going into detail, let's just say any sort of toxins I had in my body have been vacated. Through my intestines, both big and small. Nothing ridiculous, but it's just another testament to all the crap (no pun intended) we put into our bodies every day. Even if you think you're eating healthy, you're still taking in some level of bad things that have to get out somehow.

On another, completely unrelated note, I was in a minor fender bender yesterday. As I told my mom, I didn't even have my phone near me (I am sometimes guilty of texting while driving -- mainly due to the fact that I don't have to look at the keys to do it; I've memorized them). I was focused completely on the road, but apparently not on the car and how wide it was. Which is ironic, since my car is a Ford Focus.

All that aside, I pulled around a car in the Straight Lane when I was trying to get to the Left Turn Lane. I clipped my mirror on her back light, which barely got a scratch. My mirror, however, was hanging like a loose tooth off the side of the passenger side door.

After coming out of the shock and recovering from how bad it sounded (ever notice how little things on a car sound absolutely horrible?), she got out of her car and started yelling at me about how it looked like I was going to drive off and how I didn't stop to see if she'd gotten damage on her car. Because I'm really going to stop in the middle of a busy road in a turn lane, get out of my car, inspect hers, and then get run over. Right. I explained that I was pulling over where it was safe to do so, rather than putting myself at risk of getting killed. She started blabbing about something else, I pretty much drowned her out. She muttered things with her arms flailing as she walked back to her car.

Anyway, things were fine. I was grateful to be okay. I wanted to say a lot of things to her that wouldn't have gone along with my Buddhist attitude about life, but I didn't. I knew it wouldn't have helped the situation. I was amazed at how much she assumed about me, though -- like that I was going to drive away. It was a startling reminder to me to never presume to know anything about anyone -- because I don't. And I won't, unless they tell me. And even then, it may not be entire truths.

Things being fine didn't mean that I didn't start crying after she pulled away, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. It wasn't even that I was upset -- I didn't care, it was just a mirror and it still works. I was just so rattled by the entire experience and the only way I know to de-stress is by crying. So I drove to Wild By Nature to buy some more coconut water, went into Rite-Aid and bought some super tough tape, and taped my mirror back onto the door. I told my mom what happened, she called my dad, who's going to call the woman. Things were all right.

I just realized that optimism has to be tested for it to last. Being happy and looking at things in an eternally positive light is easy when things are going your way and things are peachy keen jelly bean. It's when that picture-perfect situation gets rattled that your true optimism shines. I think I made it through.

I think this is here to stay.

- May (you test your boundaries).

Reconciling Want and Need

So, it seems I'm constantly inspired by J. Mraz's blogs. Which is fine -- he's become a sort of muse for me, constantly opening my mind and making me see things from a different angle. Which is precisely what I need. I think I need a miniature Mraz in my pocket at all times, giving me sage advice and helping me to remember the karma. Think they manufacture those?

Anyway, after his recent post, I got to thinking about "want" versus "need."

At my job, we get paid on the 3rd and the 18th of every month. If any of those days fall on a weekend, you get paid the Friday before. Earlier in the month, as the 3rd came closer, I could feel the excitement. I'd only gotten one paycheck this summer and I was already planning all of the items for purchase that this second paycheck would be going to.

Thursday came. Since the 3rd was technically a holiday (the school was closed for the day), the checks came the day before. I anxiously awaited the envelope as my boss slipped them into everyone's respective mail cubbies. She usually skips mine to hand it to me in person, since I'm sitting right there. As she neared my desk, I remember literally holding my breath with excitement. She had a confused look on her face.

"They didn't send your check over. I'm going to give them a call to see why." I thought to myself, 'Minor setback, but maybe they just forgot because I'm technically temporary staff and they sent over everyone's who's a regular employee. No problem.' About half an hour later, she called me from her office and said that it turned out she'd not handed in my time sheets before the deadline. A complete accident, and one that was not her fault (she'd taken Friday and the following Monday off to spend time with her son who lives in a residential facility upstate). She hadn't realized that they were SO strict with the cut-off date and apologized again.

I told her it was no big deal, and really, it wasn't.

For a little while.

On the eve of the third pay day of the summer, with a measly $5 in my bank account, I can't help but think. I've had to seriously cut down on my frivolous spending since then since funds were all-around limited. I avoided places like the mall, since I knew my will power is kind of pathetic when it comes to certain things (read: clothes, sunglasses, accessories).

But, what I realized was that I didn't need to go to Starbucks all the time; I could just as easily brew a cup of tea or coffee at home, for less. I didn't need new clothes while I still had old ones to wear. I didn't need a fourth pair of sunglasses. All of these things that I kept thinking I needed, I really didn't. Maybe I wanted them, but I certainly didn't need them.

I had and have all of the things I need. Everything else is just superfluous.

That's not to say that I haven't already planned to what to buy with tomorrow's pay check, but all of those things have purpose -- and they're all things I've made sure I really want. I don't know if I need them quite yet, but I know that they're things that I've taken time to think about, ponder over, really decide upon:

List
- My tattoo, which will most likely happen on Saturday.
- Haircut and highlights, which I've never gotten before.
- O.N.E. Coconut Water.
- Vitamineral Green.
- More items for my mom's "meditation" room to help with the Feng Shui.
- Printing out more photos from Europe.
- Buying Mason Jars for said photos (it's a fun craft. Google it!)

The tattoo and haircut are in celebration of this new life I'm living. I feel renewed, I feel like I've woken up from a long sleep that's taken 22 years to come out of. I've undergone a positive, karmic transformation -- so now, it's time to restore and reawaken the external parts of me so that they match the internal parts.

So, I pose these questions to you -- what is it that you want? What is it that you need? Are they the same? Are they different? Will those things improve your life in the long-run? Are they temporary fixes to feelings of sadness, insecurity, or insignificance? Where would that energy be better spent in your life? Will they improve the lives of those around you? At whose expense have those things been made or created?

Can you tell the difference?

- May (you have the courage to re-examine everything).

Reflection

Just a short story I felt like sharing, taken from my Zen Book by Daniel Levin.

Two dogs walk into a room.

One comes out quivering, barking in fear
the whole time, while the other comes out
wagging his tail, with a seemingly big smile
across his face. a man seeing this walks into
the room to discover that it's full of mirrors.
That is the way of this life.

What we see is who we are.

The 10 Spot

Inspired by J. Mraz's most recent blog post, I've decided to make a list of ten things I'm grateful for today. This is in addition to the small paragraph I've already written in my gratitude journal, but hey .. you can never have enough happiness or enough positive karma. I'm going to keep this going.

1. Sunshine. Sounds simplistic, but after somewhere around a month of constant gray, rain, and storms, I'm thankful for the radiant rays for however long I can soak them up. I am, of course, ignoring the fact that I'm stuck in an office for 8 hours a day.

2. Blue skies. See above. I'd almost forgotten how absolutely stunning the color is.

3. Having a job. Though I sometimes complain about being stuck in an office chair all day, sitting behind a desk, finding things to do online, I'm thankful to have this job. In an economic world where so many people are struggling to keep things afloat, I feel ridiculously unworthy of having a job that pays well and also has a window for me to gaze longingly outside at the sunshine. I also got to put up some pictures around my workspace. And a miniature Buddha!

4. The ability to read, walk, see, hear, smell, touch, breathe, eat, experience life. Kind of a long one, but I always forget how lucky I am to be able to do .. anything. I take advantage of my able body, all five of my senses that are still in good working order, the ability to breathe without a machine, everything. Such small things that really mean so much.

5. Discovering a new state of consciousness. In Yoga, there are four states (awake, sleeping, dreaming, and transcendental). Although awake is technically the furthest from being enlightened, I look at it as a positive. I feel as though I've been in the sleeping state for my entire life - lethargic, unmoved by beauty, callous, indifferent to the world and to myself. I've finally woken up and have been able to look at things through different eyes. I feel like I'm awake, truly awake, for the first time in my life. And now, it's time for me to start dreaming about the future and all of the wonderful, amazing things to come.

6. Finally finding peace and understanding with the universe. I don't know if this needs any explanation.

7. My new-found ability to not question the universe when things happen. Also inspired by J. Mraz, I'm taking a step back from the mortal need for control over the universe around me. I'm letting things happen the way they happen, and not questioning why. If someone does something nice for me, I'm not going to dig for reasons, or wonder if it was for their own gain rather than mine. I'm going to smile and thank them and take that peace with me and spread it to someone else. If something bad happens, I'm going to understand that the Universe has a reason for it. As the Dalai Lama says (who just celebrated his 74th birthday!), "I find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. I do not judge the universe."

8. Having decided on a tattoo design and location. I've wanted a tattoo for seven years. SEVEN! I used to want the Gemini symbol, since I figured it wouldn't be changing any time soon. Then I wanted something to do with London, commemorating the fact that I found where my heart's always been and always wanted to be. That may be coming later, once I figure that design out, but I have never been more sure of a design and a location before in my life. I'm going to be getting the Om (Aum) symbol at the base of my neck, towards the middle of my back. The reason? The Vishuddha chakra, symbolizing creativity, turning negative situations into positives and lessons to be learned, and increasing communication. Also, for the deity who resides in the Vishuddha Chakra, Panchavaktra Shiva. He has five heads for each of the senses and in one of his hands, he's holding a drum that's perpetually beating, symbolizing the Om (Aum) sound -- balance between the world, its creatures, and people. Get it? It's all connected. And as with #7, I'm not questioning why it all suddenly made sense - I'm just accepting it and revelling in the fact that I finally understand.

9. Being alive! I end every entry in my gratitude journal with this. I take it from a quote from Buddha: "Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful."

10. Warmer weather. It means I can wear flowy skirts and dresses that always, always put me in happier moods! Not to mention that Serotonin! :D

I'd love to see what lists you come up with! Post them!



- May (you remember to be thankful for every breath).

the first draft of the declaration of independence.

Also posted in Pen & Paper Addicts.

freedom is not just about
flipping off the monarchy
and telling them that they
can take their crowns and
eat them for all you
care. it's about letting
go of everything that's
haunted you, forever on your
back and forever on your
heart. it's flipping off
all of the negativity other
people try to spread,
like some rampant case of
VD, and keeping your
proverbial legs closed.

it's learning to forgive
the negativity and under-
standing that it never
really had a say in where
it was going but was
strung along like some
derranged pinocchio with
no hopes of ever becoming
a real boy (it was never
encouraged as a child). it's
finally realizing that, damn
it, you're worth the
sun and the breeze to
cool those beads of sweat
upon your salty flesh
and the whispering of those
gossiping trees (i swear they're
worse than most beauticians) and

the joy of waking up
another morning and
realizing that you have
the chance to do something
extraordinary. because
that's what you are; forget
what you've learned in those
wretched, glossy spreads
and repeat after me: i
am an extraordinary
being. i want you to take
2 doses each and every morning
and, you know what, it's
PRN (as needed, for those
of you who may not know),
because this life is one of those
drugs that can turn you
into some kind of addict,

with your tongue
hanging out and your
forearms bruised, always
begging for more.



- May (you discover your passion).

Independence

The 4th of July's coming up on Saturday, aka America's Independence Day. While I enjoy waving around a sparkler like an idiot as much as the next idiot, and also enjoy BBQ's and nursing a cold one while balancing a paper plate with a hamburger and macaroni salad on my leg, it's an odd year for a celebration of independence, don't you think?

Most of the world isn't really independent. Most of us aren't independent. So here are some things that I hope you think about on Saturday. And every day following.

What (Insert Your Name Here) Needs To Be Independent From
- The Fear of Failing. I can't use failure as an excuse anymore. As they say, there are no mistakes in life, only lessons to be learned.
- Reservation. If I want to dance when the dance floor is empty, may I have the strength to will my legs and body to move.
- The Fear of Forgetting. The moments that aren't always remembered are sometimes the ones that mean the most to us. I will make it a point to have more of these moments until my heart is over-flowing.
- Baggage. Everyone's struggled to get to where s/he is in life. Everyone has been carrying heavy suitcases and maybe even a backpack (or rucksack, for you overseas). May I free myself from the extra weight and not be afraid to let go.
- The Future. No matter what I do, I can't control the future. I can only control the now. My present actions may influence my future, but until time-travelling is invented, I'm stuck in the here and now. I'd better get used to it and take advantage before the present turns into the past.
- Time. Everyone grows older. In a world where there's so much emphasis put on youth and beauty, we all forget what a gift it is to be able to say that we've lived. My mom refuses to dye her graying hair because she says that it shows that she's experienced things, good and bad, and shows that she's lived her life. I won't belittle the chance to grow older, to grow wiser, and to pass my wisdom onto those behind me.
- Other People. Many of them will build me up and support me (cue Josh Groban's "You Lift Me Up." I'll leave you to your thoughts for a moment while you absorb that. ... Okay, no. I'm done). But many of them will try to cut me down. Many of them will stampede upon me and my aspirations. Many of them will maliciously harm me and will be unapologetic. May I look at them for the pain they have inside of their own hearts - may I inhale their suffering, and exhale my peace to them.
- And most importantly, myself. I will not let myself stand in the way of anything that I want to accomplish, of my success, of my life. Instead, I will take myself along for the ride, hoping that at the end of it all, I can look back and say that it was worth it.



Happy 4th, everyone.

- May (you find your freedom).

No Need to Complicate

I'm sure that most people are sick of hearing "I'm Yours" on the radio. I'm sure that people switch off whenever the beginning chords start. I'm sure people think it's played out and 'what's the big deal?' and it was good the first time around, not the 50239487th.

I don't care.

I will never get enough of this song.

I've been a Mraz fan since I heard "The Remedy." It steadily grew with songs like "Geek in the Pink" and "Wordplay." But his most recent album, "We Sing. We Dance. We Steal Things." is my favorite, by far. And a lot of loyalists of Mr. Mraz detest the fans who were suddenly all about the hat-loving singer once they heard the upbeat, summer-appropriate notes of "I'm Yours." Personally, I'm not one of those people.

I've always respected Mraz, not only for his blatant honesty in his lyrics, but the sheer poetry of his words. He's one of the few talented song-writers still out there. Where most people are fulfilling the cookie-cutter mold of "Wahhhh life suuuucks .. Here's my soooong about ittttt. Wahhhh .." he takes the idea of heartbreak and turns it into something beautifully tragic. It's not a complaint about losing a loved one, losing a relationship, but rather an observation as someone outside of his own life, while still devastatingly involved.

With WSWDWST, though, it dove even deeper into the personal realm. With songs like "Love For A Child," we get to listen to his feelings about growing up in a broken home, riddled with divorce, celebrating separate holidays, and his struggle with reconciling it all. The first time I heard the song, I cried. I couldn't even make that up. The sad twangs of the guitar got to me initially, and then when the line, "They never checked to see my grades, what a fool I'd be to start complaining now" came out, tears flowed without hesitation. I'm not a child of divorce, but the family I once saw as forever together has been anything but - but don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade my family situation for anything. I love every single person in my family more than I can say. I respect all of them for who they are and what they bring. But there's something deeply personal in Mraz's lyrics that I think everyone can relate to, in some way or another.

But the point of this post wasn't to give a way-too-late album review of WSWDWST. It was to talk about "I'm Yours." Where people switch off the radio, I turn the volume dial higher. I hear it just about every morning on my way to work, and if I don't naturally hear it on the radio, I put it on my iPod and listen to it. As soon as I hear that 5/7 slide, followed by the off-beat strumming, I smile. The sun's a little brighter. The day's already off to a great start.

It's one of those songs that you sing along to without even listening to it. But when you stop and actually hear the lyrics, you realize how beautiful the song really is. The words stay in time with its upbeat, reggae-like swagger. My favorite part is the last verse, though, after the short interlude.

I've been spending way too long checking my tongue in the mirror,
And bending over backwards just to try to see it clearer.
But my breath fogged up the glass,
So I drew a new face and I laughed.
I guess what I be saying is there ain't no better reason
To rid yourself of vanity and just go with the seasons.
It's what we aim to do;
Our name is our virtue.

It sums up everything. Don't take yourself too seriously. Go with the flow. Enjoy life without getting caught up in the ridiculous standards demanded by society. Be yourself. Laugh at yourself more often. Who you are is a gift to the world; don't waste it.

If you haven't already, go check out Mraz's blog. Every time you finish reading a post, you'll feel inspired to leave this world a better place than how you found it. One of my favorites is the post about the manicure set. The universe really is a wonderful thing.

- May (you make the life you lead YOURS).

PS. - After listening to something mellow, like "A Beautiful Mess" or "Love For A Child," listen to something insanely amazing, like "The Dynamo of Volition," which was written entirely around the one line (it was a challenge from someone Mraz works with/knows): "Driving off on a blind man's bike." The man's the miracle worker of music and lyrics.

Gay Pride in New York!

The subject line shouldn't be startling. If anything, it shouldn't even phase you. New York's been long known as a center for Gay Pride, and yesterday was no different! Yesterday was the annual Gay Pride Parade that extends down 5th Avenue down towards the West Village. It also marked the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

Here's a brief history lesson in case you aren't sure what Stonewall was. In 1969, people were feeling the love -- it was a decade of revolution, of free love, of expression, of drugs, of love beads, of sit-ins and getting tear gassed, of protests and demonstrations. In the Village, there was a place called the Stonewall Inn, known for being gay-friendly in a time when everything but homosexuality seemed to be all right. Police raids were more or less routine, but on June 28th, 1969, the gay and lesbian community fought back against the police raids. The following year, the Gay Pride Parade began in New York & Los Angeles to commemorate this act of justified rebellion. If you want to read the whole spiel, you can read all about it here.

So, yesterday was the 39th Gay Pride Parade in New York, and it gets more and more fabulouuuuus! every single year! One of my favorite things about this year is that Governor David Patterson marched in it -- he's already said that if the bill passes the Senate, he's going to sign it.

I wanted to head to the Parade myself, but having a dentist appointment at 8 AM, after which I couldn't feel the right side of my face, I came back home and fell asleep until the afternoon. Then made myself lunch and hung around until I went over to a friend's house and subsequently went on our usual trip to Starbucks. So. You know. I didn't actually get to the Parade, but my gay-loving side was there in spirit! That's what counts, right? The gay spirit? Or something?

Anyway .. have some pictures and TRY to tell me they're not fabulous!


Drag queens! I'm still on my mission to become BFFs with one. Any takers?


Rainbow balloons outside St. Patrick's


Work it, honey, work it!


Governor David Patterson! <3 He's so adorable!


I imagine them skipping through a meadow of daisies .. FABULOUS.

Pictures taken from here (Link to the Washington Post).

- May (you, at the end of the day, remember the love).

Just Beat It! No, Not THAT, You Freak.

Look.

Let's be frank here, okay? (I suddenly have the urge to say, "And don't call me Shirley.") Michael Jackson was weird. As some comedian said, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'Only in America can a poor black guy turn into a rich white guy.' The guy obviously had issues. More issues than all the psychologists/psychiatrists/counselors could ever attempt to talk about. He grew up with an abusive father (come on, admit it - you've seen that Michael Jackson movie on VH1, more than once. Don't lie. I'm onto you). If I'm remembering correctly, his father used to talk about his nose and how wide, how "black" it was. It was something he used to harp on constantly as MJ was growing up, hence his obsession with making it small, petite, and virtually non-existent.

The guy was accused of being a pedophile. In case you have selective amnesia, though, the charges were dropped because the stories of the kid and his family were inconsistent. There was even a Law & Order: Special Victims Unit episode paralleling the story ('not based on actual events' my ass, Dick Wolf) where Shirley from Laverne & Shirley was actually poisoning her granddaughter and making her think she had cancer. They then fabricated a story about a famous pop singer who'd had charges of molestation/improper relations with children before, but it all ended up being a plot to get money from him.

So. I mean. I don't know. I'm not saying that MJ didn't do it (he fully admitted letting kids sleep in his bed), but if Dick Wolf, Elliot Stabler, and Olivia Benson are insinuating that people are money-hungry bastards who poison their grandkids to make a more convincing story, then .. you know. It makes you pause and think. Because Benson and Stabler don't lie. They just don't do it. Except when Benson's trying to protect her long-lost brother ..

Anyway, the point is - the guy had his issues. I think people really are money-hungry bastards who'll do just about anything to exploit someone else (is it that far-fetched? Think about the lawsuit-happy culture we all live in right now) .. I mean, it's like that person who sued McDonald's after she spilled her hot coffee in her lap and burned herself.

And won.

That's sick. You're an idiot who ordered hot coffee and were too stupid to put it in a cup holder and instead squeezed the cup between your thighs and oops! Surprise! Hot coffee lap. Deal with your own stupidity and own up to your mistakes.

All of that aside, MJ revolutionized music. He changed it forever.

I was adopted in 1988. MJ was at the early peak of his solo career. Thriller had come out in 1982 (it's the world's best-selling record, in case you weren't aware) and Bad had just come out the year before. My brother's cabbage patch doll was named Michael. My sister's doll was named Billie Jean (these names were given by my brother and sister, respectively). If you watch my arrival video, you can see Michael Jackson's "Bad" video on the TV behind me as I bounce around in my wheeling-chair-with-tray-attached thing, which I called my Boinga Boinga. Don't ask questions. Just keep reading.

The "Thriller" video still scares the shit out of me if I watch it by myself and at night. Because of that video, I sprint past cemeteries if I happen to be walking past one at night. The opening beats of the song immediately pop into my head, in addition to Vincent Price's creepy-as-hell voice over, as I imagine decomposing hands and limbs coming forth from the depths of the crypts and graves and mausoleums. But then I think to myself, "Even if that did happen, we just have to do a synchronized dance sequence with the werewolf hand march and we'll all be okay. They'll think I'm one of them and then I'll turn around as I leave with yellow eyes and fangs. Success!"

Everyone, I don't care who you are, has tried to Moonwalk. And probably fallen over/tripped/backed up into a wall/kicked a small child. Everyone, secretly or not, dances around to Billie Jean, The Way You Make Me Feel, Bad, Beat It, and/or Thriller. Everyone's at least tried to lean the Thriller dance in its entirety. And who didn't cry at the end of Free Willy when "Will You Be There" came on? Admit it! You bawled like a baby. As did everyone else in the theatre. GO FREE WILLY, GO!

Ahem.

His personal life aside, MJ was a staple in the music world. I grew up listening to him, even if it was after he'd made it big. I grew up watching his videos. Wanting to imitate his dance moves, only to realize that I couldn't ever Moonwalk the way he did. The man may have been on the creepy side of life, but my Social Work education has made me look at him for who he really was, despite public persona: the result of an abusive, abusive father, an unhealthy family system, and a child who was stripped of his chance of being a child in order to be a performer.

To quote Micky J himself, "It don't matter if you're black or white." His death is a loss for everyone.

Here's a link to one of my favorite MJ videos, "Black or White."

- May (you remember to listen to the music).

Still on that European High

I just got back from Europe yesterday. I'm still struggling with the fact that my vacation is over, after months of planning and arranging details. But I'm keeping up with my life philosophy: rather than being sad about it being over, I'm revelling in the happiness that it happened at all. I got to see things so many people have never seen. I've experienced things no one else has experienced. I've eaten some of the most delicious Gelati on a hot, Roman day while walking towards the Trevi Fontana and La Piazza di Spagna. I've had authentic Italian pasta and pizza, and will NEVER forget how amazing it tasted and the way the flavors swirled on my tongue. I've walked in the same steps of an ancient people who were buried under layers of ash and pumice from Mount Vesuvius. I've walked their streets, been in their houses, seen their last moments the way they saw them. I've walked the same crosswalk that the Beatles walked. I've signed my name to the wall outside Abbey Road Studios. I've seen the Cliffs of Moher and learned about Faery Circles.

For the past 16 days, I've really, really lived.

And I've come back to some good horoscopes and guiding words from Rob Brezsny. One particular clip of his horoscope really struck me for some reason:

"A familiar stranger will hand you a Cracker Jack toy and whisper, 'Are we never going to see each other again? Or will we get married tomorrow?'"

I love the open-ended route that quote can take. We don't know what will happen. With the familiar stranger, will we marry tomorrow? Will we never see each other again? Will we speak again and reminisce about long-lost, vague times? Will we lead our separate lives with never a thought of one another?

I don't know. I don't know if I'll ever talk to the friends I made on the European trip ever again. I don't know if Anthony and Trisha will really journey down to Long Island to visit. I don't know if I'll remember people's names a year from now. I don't know if I'll see them ever again.

But for the 16 days they were in my life, I must say thank you -- you made it some of the most memorable that I've had in my 22 years. It doesn't matter if we get married tomorrow or never see each other again; we were in each other's lives, we shared laughs and stories and sights, and that's what I will take with me on this ridiculous journey called life. Thank you for adding to my story and for doing so willingly and so generously.

- May (you experience the world).

Graduation from college: best thing ever.

I don't know what happened.

I really don't.

I was depressed over graduating not too long ago. I was depressed over leaving my friends, over leaving the campus I'd come to call home for four years, over moving on to the next chapter of my life. I cried most of the ride home back to New York. I cried when I got home that night, listening to sad music (cue the "Here's To The Nights" and "Time Of Your Life" -- I even broke out "Friends Forever" from the 2001-ish era).

And now?

Now, I feel like I could conquer the world. I feel like nothing could ever get me down ever again. And, this is probably TMI, but I'm even PMSing and I'm still feeling awesome.

I don't know what changed. Something inside of me just clicked. I woke up and I realized that spending my life being upset, being regretful, being constantly stuck in the vortex of the past wasn't going to do me any good. It's cliche, but I started living in the present. And I've never been able to do it before. Not until now.

I've adopted new life philosophies. Primarily, the idea that this life is mine. No one else has it. No one else is priviledged enough to have it. No one else would make the same decisions that I've made and will make. And because this life is mine, and only mine, it's unique. It's worth exploring, celebrating, feeling, experiencing, and above all, living.

I could harp on the past 'til I died. I could spend my entire life looking back, rather than looking at the world around me. I could talk about how I wish I knew my birth mother for years. Eons. I could talk about how I felt a loss of identity because I didn't and don't know her. I could. But I've decided not to.

I've decided to take charge of my life because you know what? No one else is going to do it for me. No one else can. It's up to me to start living the right way.

So. I'm choosing life. I'm choosing positive things. I'm choosing friends. I'm choosing family. I'm choosing letting go when I have to let go. I'm choosing healthy food options. I'm choosing doing yoga. I'm choosing meditation. I'm choosing burning incense and chilling out. I'm choosing to be excited over the unknowns of life. I'm choosing positive energies, both giving and receiving. I'm choosing karma and improving this shithole of a world.

I'm choosing to live.

And I have never, ever felt more at peace with myself, the world, and the universe.

- May (you find your reason for life).

New York, New York!

We are officially one step closer to legalizing Same-Sex Marriage in New York!

The NYS Assembly passed the bill today (89 to 52)! Now, it's on to the Senate, and if it passes there, then Governor David Paterson must sign it, which he has already said he would. The Assembly already had passed this bill back in 2007, but I think that since so many states have already legalized it, now's the time it'll actually happen. I mean, if Iowa and Maine are more progressive than New York, which houses such areas as The Village, something is seriously wrong.

Anyway, this bit of legislative action is, in a word, awesome!

A quote from Mayor Bloomberg pretty much sums it up: "I applaud ... members of both parties for moving this historic legislation forward."

California, you'd better catch up. Over-turn Prop 8 now!

Here's the article at CNN.com.

- May (you take your steps in the right direction).

Don't Ask, Don't Tell Leads to Ignorance

Because I was sucked into the world of Twitter, I've been following a slew of different people. Some are celebrities, like Rainn Wilson and Jason Mraz (well, his Joyoligist, since she's doing the Tweeting). Others have to do with politics, like one account called Obamawatcher.

Something caught my about one of the twats: "Obama Caving on Gays in the Military." There's an article at The Huffington Post about it, which is what the link was in the twat (sorry, Mraz, I stole that term from you; the PC term would be tweet).

Anyway .. I don't think I've ever really fully understood the DADT policy. What does someone's sexual orientation have to do with his/her ability to protect his/her country? No, this is really a question I'd like someone to asnwer.

Seriously.

How does having a sexual preference for the same gender mean that you're unworthy of doing a civic duty? Especially since there isn't a draft and so many men and women (the "special and straight" ones, mind you) are being sent back for their third or fourth tour because there's a shortage of soldiers.

But really. Are people afraid that they're going to "catch the gay" or something? Are they worried that if they spend time in close quarters with someone who is homosexual, they're going to get hit on? First of all -- a compliment's a compliment, regardless of who gives it. Get over it and be flattered. Secondly, is that the worst that can happen? Someone gets uncomfortable because someone thinks they're attractive?

Please, someone explain the point of this policy to me. Why, logically (that's the key word here), does it matter whether someone is straight or gay? When an enemy's charging at you with a gun or a bomb, I don't think it matters.

To quote the verifiably insane and talented Jack Nicholson from "The Departed:" ... Today, what I'm saying to you is this: when you're facing a loaded gun, what's the difference?

- May (you make the right decision when the time comes).

Also, Obama, please hurry the hell up and dissolve this policy. KTHNXBYE.

A Pain in the Ash.

So, my horoscope for today:

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): "A Pain in the Ash: Volcano Irritates Alaskans." That was the headline of a news story about how the people of Anchorage, Alaska are dealing with the erratic behavior of nearby Mount Redoubt. As of this writing, the volcano hasn't exploded yet, but it keeps hinting that it might. Meanwhile, it regularly burps clouds of ash that float around and wreak a lot of inconvenience. "I would like it to have a big boom and get it over with," said one native. In accordance with your astrological omens, Gemini, let's use this situation as a metaphor for your life. The fact is, there's no sense in getting irritated or impatient with the primal force in your vicinity. Doing so would be a waste of your precious emotional energy. Besides, cultivating calm equanimity is the best way to acquire the grace you'll need to respond appropriately when the primal force does go boom.

I love getting these horoscopes because they're different than the ones you read in the paper. Rob Brezsney, to whom I was introduced thanks to my fabulous ex-boss, Karin, two summers ago, writes horoscopes that give you advice, but also incorporate literature, music, art, whatever. I love analogies. I love analogies the way I love chocolate when I'm PMSing. I love them the way I love 75 degree weather with a slight breeze. I love them like a fat kid loves cake. Which is why I love these horoscopes.

Anyway, you can sign up for them, if you want, via email. I think they're sent out once a week or once every other week. He's also been startingly accurate before, and it keeps me coming back!

The point: even a horoscope, told to me by some guy who may resemble



is telling me to find peace. Except he used the term "calm equanimity." And the need to acquire grace.

Even if you do look like the scary man with guns and two Guitar Hero controllers (I dig the wireless one myself), Rob Brezsney, you still shed insight on my life at exactly the right time. I guess this is one of those moments where the universe is telling me something, where that weird moment is finding me when I need it most.

That's my mission for .. well, the rest of my life: find peace. Find grace. Find that calm equanimity. Find something. We're all in this journey together, even if our paces are different and the shoes in which we walk vary. And maybe all the world needs is a little bit of that peace, that grace. Maybe we can find it together.

- May (every step you take be sweet).