What can I say, this holiday season I find myself a bit disappointed. The season usually springs up on me and I realize the evening of Halloween that I was supposed to have planned an outfit and an outing before then. So this year I thought ahead. . . but thought didn’t necessarily turn to action and here I am home alone watching “Halloween” which is at least a pleasant background ambiance.

I went to a party and wore my kitty kat outfit and ended up being 1 of 3 people who dressed up. There advertised a costume contest! I left before the awards were given out, but heard from some friends that I would’ve won.

I dressed up today for work (mostly because co-workers had mentioned it) and when I showed up I was the only person in the office that dressed up and I believe the only person in the building. Again I wore the cat outfit (ears, tail, and bow) and kept getting asked “Are you Minnie Mouse?” Anyway, I kept my chin up and my costume on the entire day, acting as though it were completely natural to each new person I interviewed for the program. LOL.

I have been watching some scary stuff – I rented Quarantine 2, a graphic bio-terror tale of a flight gone wrong as passengers become infected and turn into zombies (but at least they can die since they’re technically “living zombies” ). Bio-Terrorism is a little too real for comfort, not that I am narcissistic  enough to think I’d be worthwhile to target, I do understand the laws of bad luck that dictate if shit can happen, it will. I also got into the series “Lost Tapes” these stories are “inspired by the possibility that creatures exist that have not been recognized by science” I did get to watch Lost Boys with my boo and that was delightful, as I’ve never found a time that I didn’t want to watch that movie.

But what really scares me this season? Maybe it’s the 7 billion people that surround me on this planet, the political turmoil in Oakland and abroad, or the economic crunch that I’m personally feeling. It could be that it’s already November. and soon it will be 2012, my 27th birthday, another year in the steadily speeding chapters of my life. Maybe that’s why I want to escape into the primal responses to a spooky haunted house and the immediate release of stress and realization that everything will be ok.

Picture #2: An explanation as to why this post isn’t longer. After work my three brave remaining fingers on my right hand are all tuckered out from pulling the other guys weight.

I had the opportunity to attend a performance of Faustin Linyekula/Studios Kabako of their new show “More More More . . . Future” and it was a fantastic mix of dance, music, and political consciousness raising. The Yerba Buena website has the best description of the piece.

What I went in knowing was that it was a portrayal of the struggles in Congo (hence Congolese dance-)

What I didn’t know was that I was going to be consistently moved by the music- the beats and guitar had me moving despite my attempt at remaining poised appropriately in the audience. I also didn’t expect to be moved and lost in the poetic lyrics projected onto a screen in the background. Both French and English subtitles, French the language that was sung. (I didn’t expect my French to come in handy and I only remembered a bit but it made the experience that much more complex) I didn’t expect to be lost in the story that had overarching themes of oppression and revolution. Survival.

I wish I had all the words so I could give them the time and reflection they deserve, as I’m sure they have a lot to teach me.

But if you haven’t thought about the Congo lately. Take a moment.

Thanks for the opportunity to learn, feel, and be inspired.

But how fitting, that I wear a Poppy to honor my own “Poppy”-

It’s hard to describe the impact that my Uncle Joe had on my life. It almost seems like my earliest memories weren’t of actually of him, but more of his absence. Hunting and Fishing trips kept him away when he wasn’t working, and it gave me an opportunity to hang out with my Aunt who didn’t mind having some company on her errands. But things shifted after my parent’s divorce and during my father’s slow withdrawal from my life. Him and my Aunt bought a trailer and rented a beautiful patch in a mobile home park on Lake Erie and this became my vacation spot. 3 hours away from home it felt like an exotic retreat and with my surrogate parents away from home we slipped into a humorous domesticity that was such a comfort to me. Joe accepted me into his life with open arms (although he was sometimes a pisser and would have to rag me about it first, he always made sure I knew that he loved me) and while I had a difficult time relating to a man, after feeling emotionally starved from the other paternal figure in my life, calling him “Poppy” always felt like the right balance of sass and sincerity.

My Poppy was the first man that showed me the battle masculinity has when it faces real emotion. He was definitely a strong character. He carried many war wounds, including a bullet forever embedded into his being as a reminder that the nightmares of battle were true stories based on his history. And yet, he also showed his passion. While it sometimes came out in anger, cynicism, or sarcasm; It also came through in genuine softening, and tears.

He also showed me what loyalty looked like. For some reason most of my closest family members don’t really have friends that they see on a regular basis. I remember Joe always having a strong friend in the background, planning fishing trips and discussing the most recent Nascar season together.  But each friend also came with their shortcomings, and I saw my Uncle face his disappointment and accept compromise or sometimes have to cut them off for his own well-being. No matter what, I felt like he cared deeply for each friend and continued to long past their departure from his inner circle.

As I grew older I didn’t get to go up to the lake with them as often and eventually I moved away. Visiting, I would always pop in to say Hello and remind him of my love and admiration for him.

My Poppy didn’t have the happy ending he deserved. His health became a losing game, having to suffer and recover from one health problem to the next. And while I was still not ready to face his departure from this present life, I would not deny him the relief and reward he’s now experiencing.  I imagine a 21 Gun Salute ushering his arrival into the pearly gates as he’s whisked away to his own private fishing boat. Floating on crystal waters, filled with lucious fish a plenty, he can rest and keep watch over all of us left missing him.

I love you Poppy.

If I could go to any time in my life with anyone- Right now, it would be my Aunt Dee and our trip to Put In Bay, a small island a short ferry ride away from the mainland Marblehead, Ohio.

A Beautiful summer day no doubt. Blue skies kissing white capped waves. It always felt bright- as if nothing could cast a shadow on our adventure. My Dee, and me.

We ended up on a walk which looked much shorter on the bright tourist map highlighting the three streets of sights to see. Our jokes about being tired stopped when we became steeled in our determination to see the Aquatic Visitors Center, no matter how far away it was.  The Aquatic center turned out to be a small exhibit on local wildlife (which was minimal) and explaining the dynamics of fish hatcheries. The experience culminated in an activity station where you could do rubbings of fish skeletons to take with you. And thought I was much older than the target audience for that exhibit, I wedged into one of the tiny chairs and crafted one for my aunt with a note on it apologizing for the unwanted exercise.

I can’t remember if it was on the way there or back we stopped at an ice cream stand to get a treat (at this leg of the journey we were famished). We were both excited to get our treats, me especially as it was the shape of snoopy (I think). I remember unwrapping the popcicle like it was a Christmas present, tearing it open with no regards to the design of the packaging. As I was about to dig into the frozen deliciousness, it slipped from my grasp and crashed onto the pebbled pathway. While I tried to rescue it, brushing off the dirt and leaves- we both laughed until we cried at the ridiculousness of the entire scene.

I miss walking with my Aunt, breathing in the fresh lake air- trees’ shade dancing on our sun-kissed faces as walked beneath vibrant green leaves. The calm of being in such a small town environment settled over us. I wish us this joy and laughter. I wish us the humor as we had it when wearing children’s sunglasses shaped like flowers. Too small for my head, brown lenses that flipped up to reveal clear (an unnecessary feature because who keeps sunglasses on inside?) Neon flower frames, one level of dorkiness too far.

I wish us the peace we shared, traveling together across land and sea in search of entertainment. What I came back with was much more than our photo strip and novelty souvenirs. It was this felt memory of my Aunt and I, run away from the real world, breathing in live and love.

Today I had the pleasure of having a one-on-one with a collaborator at work who specializes in the field of Mindfulness. I’ve really appreciated the things I’ve learned in his trainings and strive to practice the techniques more often in my day-to-day living.

So I go into this session not knowing what to expect. Having worked and facilitated beside him we are peers, but in this arena he is the facilitator of the space and almost the “dom” of the interaction.  But he’s asking for consent constantly “May I ask you a question about that?” “If you are ok with it, I’d like to spend some time with what you just said”- “If you’re comfortable, I’d like you to try something”-  and it was both scary and beautiful to have him see me so clearly.

Mindfulness is basically paying attention to what your body is trying to tell you and integrating that into your thought processing. I am very quick to try to quash negative feelings as they spring up in my body, especially at work so it was a challenge to focus on the main feeling in my body which right now is sadness.

He began the conversation with asking me what the best thing in my past week was. I had to say the first thing that came to mind was having some hard conversations and making improvements with my relationship. I also mentioned that I’d had my gallbladder removed two weeks ago and he stopped me.

“Did you see what happened there? Even in you telling me that, what’s happening in your body”

All I could feel was the sadness building up. As I began to cry he helped me to reflect on the waves of sadness would grip my heart and then I would pull myself together and it would suddenly feel like the pieces were in place and I was solid again.

I learned a lot about myself. I learned that my brain runs a mile a minute and moves on before my felt experience has fully been processed. That there is in fact a physical way I can “act out” this tension is through a nod that I do all the time but had never noticed connects to the deep need to rock in as a self-soothing tool. I really recommend looking at what your ticks are and identifying what they do for you- it’s a great tool in taking care of yourself!

It felt so uplifting and so profound- I am grateful to have been provided the experience by my job, as part of my professional development. (How to be human 101- Love it!)

One is admittedly the kanye bear- with the phrase “Trophy Cub” layed over the sunglasses. There’s something about this bear that is cheeky and cool-cute.

The second was a simple and cute cartoon bear.

Of course, after I’ve created a stencil it looks a bit different-

I have to mention and suggest that you watch the August 18th episode of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart for it’s fantastic discussion of the “Class Warfare. He always amazes me at his tongue in cheek commentary that helps to expose the obvious contradictions and controversy that often goes unquestioned.

The discussion of the “modern conveniences” that the “poor” may have was chilling. The fact that these people have dehumanized working class folks by buying in to the american dream theory of bootstraps and equal opportunities reinforcing the myth of the lazy and selfish welfare mooch.

Well done Jon Stewart- thanks for helping to frame the discussion for those of us that don’t stream 10 news channels simultaneously (or don’t pick up a paper at all).

I’ll be the first to admit that it’s easy to get lost thinking about the future, or just sitting in the present- and forget that there is a rich history both individually as well as collectively that can inspire and invigorate.

I decided that a peek at the old journals was just what the doctor ordered. I was contemplating which time period I wanted to explore (I committed to journaling throughout my Antioch years-) and came immediately to my journal from my Women’s Studies trip to Europe that I was blessed to go on.

I am not a big traveller, especially internationally, I can go on and on about what’s problematic about the tourism industry- so I was happy to have an educational excuse to travel and see part of the world.

I’m not trying to derail from reading, I just picked it up 5 minutes ago-

But I was astonished how impactful the quotes I’d jotted in the inside cover of my battered brown and gold diary- and I felt like I needed to share them.

Life. Do not isolate just one verse of it,

Do not isolate just one phrase of it,

take it as a whole.

- Kostas Montis

 

The time is in us, and we are in time, it transforms us and we transform it.

-Vassil Levski

We breath also to understand. Temporary issues belong to our era, permanent ones to our nature. Answers beget questions. That makes our adventure a logical mystery, a smile of God, an invitation to crave for more.

-Oliver Friggieri

Because thinking is difficult, one judges rather!

-Sandor Marai

Dreams are for free and if it is only asking. . .

-Marina Mayoree

Treading their own path, entirely free, are they who are not restrained by fear of failure.

-Sylvi Kekkonen

A state can only be born once, but liberty must be reborn every day

- Lennart Meri

The loss of memory by a nation is also the loss of its concience.

- Zbigniew Herbert

And embarrassingly enough, a quote from Alien Resurrection-

Call: What happens now?

Ripley: I don’t know, I’m a stranger here myself. . .

 

I always have had a thing for Sigourney Weaver 

Yay, I’m excited to relearn about myself.