Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Day 299.

So imperfect, so nervous, so needy.

Trying to remember the important things, like I am not my job and I am not what other people think of me. Also the important things in the positive direction - I am talented, I am kind, I am funny, I am attractive.

Just a stumbly little human, kickin' rocks and trying to find good buddies to walk with.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Day 297.

Home again.

A room overstuffed
With too many reminders
Of a me long-gone
Skin having regenerated entirely
Thousands of times over.
I am at my core, the same.
But different than the person who collected these things
Packed them into colorful bags with broken zippers
Trucked them across borders
Folded them neatly and placed them into blue plastic tubs
With hard lids that snap into place
Or slipped them carefully between wine glasses wrapped in newspaper
To absorb the shock my clumsy body would surely inflict.
Things purchased at weird little shops and Guatemalan markets
Because something about them felt like me
Seemed to sing to others who I am and wish to be
And on display, tell the story of who I've been and who I will become.
But where is that story now? And to whom will it be told?
Are things ever the vehicle? The way to tell that which the heart and hands and voice and body can tell so much more efficiently?
Is it worth it, lugging around these things?

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Day 296.

Sick and lonely and trying to pretend this will be the one year I don't experience depression all the way through the holidays. Could use a little love.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Day 294.

Thankful for lots of things, but really appreciating the uncomplicated relationships I can have with non-humans lately.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Day 293.

Lookin' kinda sad and tie-tie at my parents' house. Feeling mostly happy to be here.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Day 291.

Things that have been great in recent days:

The company of Flo, Taino, Peter, and Montezuma.
Soy hot chocolate with bourbon and whipped cream.
The movie Mary & Max.
Sitting at home crying and canceling on two friends because I knew I was too depressed to be any fun at all.
Realizing I am not yet ready to develop new intimate relationships.

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Friday, November 18, 2011

Day 288.

"You should call this, 'Don't fuck with us.' Or, Self Care, 2011. Because punching bitches in the face isn't always the best." - Taino

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Day 287.

Oh, yes
I deserve love
Big expansive ever-regenerating ever-blossoming love
In the face of my ugliest moments
Tenderly cradling me
Stroking my face
Whispering a song
In Farsi, reminding me of
Everything I have seen,
Everywhere I come from.
Everyone I have been.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Day 286.

This is my new kitchen. I now live with two dogs who are generally happy to see me. (And a human roommate, too, who also seems not to mind having me around.) This is a huge improvement.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Monday, November 14, 2011

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Day 282.

My new home is starting to feel . . . like . . . well, my new home.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Day 281.

I have a lot more crying to do
This is the song my heart is singing:
Let the tears come
And let your open heart thank those
Who can sit with you
In a pool of tears
And who can hold your hand and pull you out
Into the crisp autumn night
And also be with you
In the music and in the dance

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Day 280.

I've been replaying over and over in my head a story a friend told me recently about their childhood. Someone in their class had done or said something terrible to them or about them - I don't remember all the details. And this friend of mine was so angry that they grabbed this fellow student and (I'm fuzzy here) began either punching her in the face or slamming her head against something repeatedly, all the while saying, "Say you're sorry! Say you're sorry! Say you're sorry!" I'm so extremely stuck on that. Say you're sorry. Say you're sorry. Say you're sorry!!!! I frighten myself, being attracted to this childish and violent expression, wanting to express my sorrow and my demand for apologies in a way that expresses a similar sentiment with three or four different people in my life right now.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Day 279.

That blur is one of the best blurs in the whole wide world.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Day 278.

Slow days at work = lots of interaction with people I would not otherwise get a chance to speak with much.

Today, I had lots and lots of conversation with people about money, lack of money, and how the jacked up distribution of resources in this country is effing with everybody's lives.

Person 1: Needs thousands of dollars worth of necessary (not cosmetic) orthodontia she has been putting off for a few years and can not afford. Is considering taking financial help from her father for the first time in her adult life - something she realizes is a privilege to even be able to consider.

Person 2: Has a friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer last summer and due to health care red tape has not yet begun to receive any care for it. The friend can not afford care anyway, and is leaning toward choosing to die slowly from cancer rather navigating all the health care bullshit to have her family go into debt they can never get out of. The person I spoke to has $23,000 of school loans. Started to pay them off, dipped down well below $20,000, then was hit by a car while riding his bike, and is now back up to $23,000 in debt due to medical bills. Tried to have a conversation with his student loan company on the phone about why he can not afford to pay his bills and was hung up on.

Person 3: Works for Peet's. Called in on the day of the General Strike to say he was not coming in. Upon returning to work, learned that his employer told his fellow employees that he had called in sick.

Person 4: Has thousands upon thousands of dollars in school debt. Was a public defender for about five months after law school before being laid off in the midst of the economic nosedive about two and a half years ago. Has not been able to find employment that is in line with his skills and his law degree since. Recently returned to school. Found out five days ago that through some mix-up with the financial aid office, he either had to pay them $9,000 by today or be dropped from his classes. Went to financial aid office to beg his way back into classes. Still owes that $9,000 he does not have.

These are just the notable ones. I do recall vaguely that at least three or four other people came in and our conversation quickly veered toward our broken economic system and the myriad ways it causes people suffering.

I thought I would keep it to myself that this is not new to me. That my people have been suffering for a long time . . . that immigrants, queer folks, brown folks, women, and others have been experiencing this stuff for generations. It is not new to us. But instead I listened, sympathized. Empathized, even. Been there. Am there. Done that. Doing that right now. Yup, we're all fucked. Yup, it's going to have to get way worse before it gets any better. Yup, between our broken economic and political systems and climate change, it's going to get a lot lot lot worse. Yup, yup, yup. Let me buy you this cup of coffee.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Day 276.

My new room has green walls. And I just decided that I'm only allowing truly exceptional people into my inner circle. Done with compromises. Loving myself hard.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Day 275.

Sometimes you just have to look a little crazed, like you've been crying buckets. Cuz you have been. Cuz you just noticed that other "friend" who decided to inform you of a change in your relationship via the good old-fashioned facebook unfriend. Cuz you can't stop thinking about all the people who claimed to care about you but haven't acknowledged your existence since you got dumped a few months ago. Cuz you can't stop thinking about the gossip about you that gets back around to you. Cuz you can't stop wondering why people are so mean, and if life is going to feel like high school until you die. Cuz you're unpacking, and it's exhausting, and you're finding little love notes from your ex all over the place - the ones that referenced things like the "years to come" that you'd surely share. Cuz you wish you could defend yourself, jump up on a building and scream, "YES, I am imperfect, but NO I am not evil, and NO I do not deserve this."

And also, you look like this because in the midst of your weeping, there were friends loving you and caring about you and knowing that you are beautiful and righteous and that doesn't mean you have to be anybody's version of perfect. And also, you look like this because crying is catharsis and even the things you don't understand have to be felt so that they may move through. And also, you look like this because it's all good.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Day 272.

Here I am, in my new room, trying so hard to focus on doing just one thing at a time. There are so many things to do; so many things to feel. I felt such a range of emotions today that I'm not sure my Self can be a container for all of it much longer. My container needs to grow to hold everything that comes my way, so that I can sustain, be sustainable. I am trying. I am trying really really hard.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Day 271.

Last Tuesday, as you most certainly know by now, the Occupy Oakland camp was raided. That evening, as the Mayor and the officers conducting the eviction most certainly expected, there was uproar. The uproar was unlike one I have ever seen in Oakland. We were angry, sure. But we were elegant, peaceful. We did not harm one another. So many of us had practiced (oh, the beauty of practice) how to take care of one another by then. Some of us had practiced it at the Oakland Commune, and some of us had practiced it in other places - through spiritual work, through movement work, through community work, and through simply being alive. So we came to one anothers' aid. We tried to poke through the armor of the police, finding their humanity. We walked, and even when we didn't know where we were going, we were together. And when one or more of us fell, or fell behind, others came to assist.