just kiddin'...
ihappybuddha
ate you and drank you and then grew to 10 feet tall. 
took another sip, drank you down to a drop...
and shrank back down to small. 

feet feel flat but i'm walking on my knees...   
no windows, ten thousand doors, hands push against the walls, 
heart searching for the keys. 

green is growing downside up and brown is upside down, 
swirls of black and gray in silhouette make circles in my head... 
memory's corpse of dead and thoughts begin to drown. 











 

(no subject)
ihappybuddha
Most recent books of note: Scarlet Letter, Sidhartha, and the dalai lamas autobiography. 

thinking about running today. feeling trapped. looking at the horizon like it's calling me, but feeling pressed to grow these roots and stay. Hopeless but take the happy times when i can get 'em. and they do come. but something still stirs underneath. im thinking about "sitting through the pain" and have been. quietly. needs and wants go unmet, but something inside of me tells me thats my lesson... to keep breathing. to learn selfless love. and i am little by little. thanks to pema chodron. the words on every page of her books bring an unwelcomed but much needed awareness. in impermanence. in human suffering. and in the fact that the suffering is the experience. 
A friend spoke to me once of emotional pain, saying that she didnt want to drink because she didnt want to experience it over again in another sober moment. that she wanted to "go through it". i thought of her while reading pema. and i thought of my life. I have lived hard. I've loved hard. and I've ran even harder. when the dust settles i realize that this is what its all about. not another move. not another face. quiet. sitting. breathing. and the brevity to hurt and feel fear and face it. i will. and i have. im under water... everything else is suspended and the sounds and movement around. me are all dense and muffled. but im sitting through it. starving. hurting. feeling. empty. suffering. and human. 

reinvention....
ihappybuddha
 Apartment hunting. It's not easy in the DC area, but I choose to believe that the door that I am about to open will be far more beautiful for me than the one I am closing. :) 

Looking for a nice place to heal. Alone. My own space with my books and incense and my buddha. A place for Jacob and I to enjoy our last few years together in peace. I've had the status and cars and houses, but I'm ready to "Live simply so that others can simply live." My dreams have changed. No more "family" in the sense that I had always imagined... and maybe it was my dream that caused me to cling when it hurt. I'm thinking about the next phase of my life... as motherhood is about to take on a new direction. I'm thinking about all of the things that I've always been afraid to touch. Doctor without Borders... mission work... a clinic... travel..... Those are the things that I'm hanging my hat on... 

I am trying to practice lovingkindness. I do not want to open my heart up to bitterness or hateful feelings. I want to feel the pain, no substitutions this time. I find that to be a temporary fix and and absolute guarantee that I'm going to feel like this again. So I am learning to sit with this feeling. And go through it. I want this journey to be a personal victory to me, just between God and i... 

Clinging...
ihappybuddha
 I'm thinking about the buddhist concept of clinging. What causes us to cling to the brink of suffering? Fear? Inadequacy?

Just finished Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. The undertones of the book so beautifully written, interwoven with a message of faith and mercy, while the story itself an allegory to the frailty to human nature. It occurred to me that even guilt and shame are often clung to like little shards of broken dreams. To the human mind who can no longer part with the whole of the dream, it clings to the fragments of disappointment. In placing them all together, a ghostly remembrance of what was remains, though distorted and ugly like a broken mirror with its pieces replaced but the innocence of the surface gone forever. To the disillusioned mind, the image is the same, but subconsciously suffering festers until it becomes putrid. 

Why is the reality of life so difficult to face? And why is brevity a necessary quality to open our eyes? 

(no subject)
ihappybuddha
 i'm a little stuck between johnny cash/ god's gonna cut you down, and mariah carey/ hate-u, but i think im really gonna just stick with.....

Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you no man ask for
Under pressure - that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets.......

Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don't work
Keep coming up with love
but it's so slashed and torn
Why - why - why ?

                            fuck.... fuck.... fuck.... you. :) 


 

 

Just say no.... to bullshit.
ihappybuddha
 2011 has been a year of letting go of baggage... completely cutting myself free from the people who bring me down with negativity, making myself more available to those who make me smile and with whom I can easily reciprocate. the past 2 years have been isolating and lonely, but i realize that it was to separate me from the noise long enough to sit with myself uncomfortably and think... major mental changes happen gradually, and I have definitely been going through many many changes. always surrounded by people... and commotion... it was easy to go through my day to day restless but preoccupied. my physical move to DC uprooted me from everything and everybody i knew... thrust me into a completely new and different environment with its own set of difficulties and without the support system i had before i came. there were times when i felt so lonely and cried myself to sleep. felt like i was living inside a mirror, watching people live their lives but living my own emotional life alone. i lost confidence and my sense of direction... and my voice. i lost my voice. 

the experience has taught me the ultimate parody of meditation and non-self. sensory deprivation can only lead to sitting with self. like it or not. and all of these years self has been enemy #1, and not "star player" as a friend calls it. learning to forgive ME for disappointment. learning to take care of me.  learning that i am a child of God. learning that all i need to do is speak. and breathe. no more worry. no more bullshit. that wherever i go doors will close, and then doors will open.

today is day #20 and i haven't had a bite of meat... i will pick up a pencil and paintbrush and share my soul... no more fear or inhibitions. i will sit quietly and continue to learn to love me. i will not accept negativity in my life. i will study like i'm starving. i'll make work a craft instead of a necessary part of my life. i will say yes far more than i say no. in 2011, i will. :)  

Note to self: finished ACLS, next goal PCCN by June 2011. 

"where did it go??"
ihappybuddha
 "Complications, more so I can say 
Promises and deadlines make it hard to stay away. 
All these strings are attaching to me, 
And I can't find the scissors. 
Yeah 
All I tell them 'i'm back' and I'm not. 
I can't remember where I was, I forgot. 
Knitting it all, these holes that I need, 
To crawl through a brick wall, 
Is hard to say the least. 
 
Where's that thought, that thought uncomplicated things? 
Where's that peace of mind, that peace that made it easy? 
Where's that simple day, that simply made it nice to be in. 
Where did it go? where did it go? where did it go? 
Yeah. 
 
I got you a murky light, tell me what can you see? 
A huge cloud of shit, hanging over me. 
Can you blow it all somewhere else? 
It's making it hell to distinguish myself. 
Tired of the tyrants who only think they're all business. 
Pissed with their patience, they constantly agree. 
'yes sir, yes sir, three hundred bags full.' 
It's easier to say yes than to say no to a fool. 
 
Where's that thought, that thought uncomplicated things? 
Where's that peace of mind, that peace that made it easy? 
Where's that simple day, that simply made it nice to be in. 
Where did it go? where did it go? where did it go? 
Yeah. 
Cover me in cyanide 
Cover me in ink 
Cover me in formaldehyde 
And leave me here to think. 
Cover me in carpet 
Cover me in tile. 
Cover me and evict me and put me in a file. 
 
Strip me bare, don't let me breathe. 
Strip me to my skin. 
Strip me so you can watch me clean off, 
All these things I've been. 
Strip me naked of these walls 
Strip me of all my rules 
Strip me boy and see how small I am without you. 
 
Inseminate the good now 
Inseminate the pure 
Inseminate all the shit that I've forgotten how to whore. 
Inseminate the natural 
Inseminate the dirt 
Inseminate the ineffectual 
And leave me here to love. 
 
Leave me here to love 
 
Where's that thought, that thought uncomplicated things? 
Where's that peace of mind, that peace that made it easy? 
Where's that simple day, that simply made it nice to be in. 
Where did it go? where did it go? where did it go? 
Yeah. 
 
Leave me here to love"          -I.H. 

Tara Denise Gallion. I'd better not have to read the eulogy. Fucking fight like the rest of us. 
 
 

HAM- the bija mantra for the throat chakra...
ihappybuddha
I do not claim to have a propensity for black history, nor do i feel as though I am most empathetic of the challenge, whether real or imagined, that simply being black imposes. However irrelevant MLK day may seem to my own personal life on a daily basis, I spent it in quiet reverence and silent meditation yesterday thinking of its symbolic and prophetic implications on the social and political barometer climate of the day. 

I'm thinking today of the throat chakra. It's the chakra at the center of the throat near the Adam's apple responsible for our ability to communicate energies, express our own creativity. In a universe that's stability of structure is the chasm of chaos, it would stand to reason that differences in opinion and the sharing of ideas is paramount to its' own preservation. Using our throat chakras, we imbue every particle of energy that we've absorbed and we share... it is the exhalation. For those of us who understand the physiology of the body, we understand that inhalation without exhalation produces an acidotic stand... and eventually cessation of inhalation altogether. So it is with energy. 
So what happens to an individual who has a blockage of the throat chakra? What causes the blockage? What does it mean? I'm inspired by the example of Martin Luther King... and in this particular avenue of discourse, I am compelled to think of his example: 
                                              "We must rapidly begin the shift from a “thing-oriented” society to a “person-oriented”                                                     society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights are                                                                 considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, materialism,                                                            and militarism are incapable of being conquered." -MLK

An open throat chakra speaks the truth in the face of a bullet, looks self in the mirror with brevity and faces mistakes and shortcomings with a loving and forgiving heart, and asks for vanilla ice cream even when strawberry is recommended. :) In thinking of our community, the courage to speak the truth is an individual choice that impacts the society collectively as a whole in either a negative direction or positive. Lack of education and small mindedness in a country with self-professed freedom of speech yields tragedy after tragedy. Martin Luther King, Rep. Gifford, JFK, Malcom X... all casualties of a society with philosophies far more evolved than egos. The wave of oppressed closeted youth who take their own lives secondary to fear of bigotry and hatred, prisoners of a mental oppression free speech was supposed to liberate. For every battered woman, emotionally or physically, who lost her voice to violence, exhalation does not apply. 

Learning to breathe.... in... and out....... finding our voice..... and speaking it.... learning to scream to the top of our lungs the silent cries hidden in the recesses of the heart.... this is the remedy for a dying nation, failing marriages, hopeless hearts, and the downtrodden everywhere. Just breathe.... with pride.... until you stop. :)

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