Six Things Thinky Thoughts

Richard gave me the number six, so six facts that you don't (or might not) know about me. Like this status, and I'll give you a number between 1-10.

 

^^ That one running around Facebook.

 

Normally, I'd fill this with random factoids like: my toenails are always painted rainbow, I carry a finger puppet tentacle and kazoo in my purse, that I can write upside down (that really helps with the dyslexia. Which came first?), etc etc etc. But those are incredibly surface kinda boring things that probably anyone who's known me for more than 5 minutes could guess. I spotted another friend who went on some next-level shit with it and I figured why not? LET'S GET FOR REALSIES UP IN HURR.

 

As I go to write #1, I realized the pressure is ON. haha My next-level shit might not be very next-level at all.

 

/What about/ me? Who am I? What are my beliefs? What life experience has led me to believe I am who I am? How do I contribute? How can I change?

 

1) I have a shitty memory for some things. I know that in part it has do with some chemicals I may have imbibed during my formative years. I also think that at some point I began to black out things that were traumatic. It felt safe. If details are fuzzy, maybe my emotions won't be so sharp and immobilizing. I think at some point I may have just lost control of the switch. It comes in handy for *living in the now*. But when someone thanks me for some helpful thing I did to/for them, and I don't remember doing it... it can be embarrassing and painful because then they might think it wasn't important to me to've done it. That being said... it's interesting to look at how I live my life, then. If I am on some level aware that I might forget some deed I did, am I more or less likely to do the best thing in that situation that I'm capable of doing? "Legacy" feels like a word too big for this, but if it's legacy we're talking about, then let it be good.

 

2) I'm constantly striving to make myself better. Some days I'm ~feeling it~ and some days completely oblivious, but if I am the only person I can directly change... why not take the opportunity to grow? I'm a fixer. I can tell you up, down, and sideways what to do with your life to make it better. But looking at myself in such a way is difficult. I'm getting better at it though. I know now that when friends come to me to talk about some problem they're having, it's not because they want me to tell them what to do. It's because they want compassion, empathy, an open mind and heart, a non-judgmental ear. Because I was so caught up in the thought process of "If they're coming to me, they must want me to tell them what to do." for a good portion of my life, it's challenging, not so much to not react that way, but to convey to THEM that I no longer will. It's a process and I want to be a better friend and a better human to people. This is only a small portion of what needs changing.

3) One of my best friends, when asked what it was about me that drew him to me, he said something along the lines of "I like talking to Jen because her mind bends around places no on else can get to." I like that and I try to uphold that sentiment. By that, I mean... outward expression. It doesn't count if I think it and don't follow it or express it in some way. People can't read my mind. They can't see a painting I haven't done. Nor read words I haven't typed. It's my responsibility as part of Who I Am in This Version of The Universe to give it away and to let my personality and contribution be evident.

4) The happiest I ever remember being was when I lived next to the ocean. I probably don't need to elaborate. It's like house music. If you know it and you love it then you know. You know? I'd sleep with the sliding glass door open and listen to the waves. I consider that my home. I was raised in a military family, so I get the itch to GO. Move. Get out. In some ways it's translated to running away. But I'm discovering that it's only running away if it's FROM responsibilities. So I'm working on getting things in order before I get back there.

-- I'm coming back to this after a few hectic days and wanted to write at least 2 more things that were important to me for some reason or another. Happily, I just so happen to have 2 more things to write on this list anyway! --

5) I think entitlement is one of the worst human characteristics we can have. It makes anyone an instant asshole. I also think the majority of gross human behavior stems from this in some form or another. It's a big shitty umbrella. I have to watch myself so that I don't become a hypocrite (though we all are hypocritical to some degree at some point or another in life. Nobody's perfect.) This is one of the things I'm constantly aware of and if I'm getting mad at other people without really thinking about it or without them having done some heinous action towards me, it's probably due to this nastiness. How hard is it to just be a decent human being?

6) I'm falling more and more in love with photography. I was finally able to pinpoint it when I was walking outside earlier today and playing with my new phone (HOLLER!). See... I have this thing with attention. It might be A.D.D. (but if it is, it's undiagnosed). It's why even though I have a creative eye for design, I couldn't deal with being a graphic designer because people are barking at me all day and (ahemfeelingentitledthattheirshitneedstogetdonefirstahem) though I work even MORE creatively under pressure, it was just too much to juggle. Now, as a massage therapist... I thrive with the one-on-one attention I am able to give myself over to. Back to photography and attention.... a friend of mine was kind enough to explain it in such a way that I didn't feel ashamed or like something was wrong with me or needed fixing. He pointed out that I simply have a higher scope of awareness. With photography... it becomes all about that particular person, that leaf, that landscape, that color, that pattern, shape, juxtaposition, etc. I have to stop and focus in. But first, I need to see what it is I need to see.

And thus, my life. First, I need to see what it is I need to see.

Thank you and goodnight.

The tale of two tales

Back on Memorial Day, I went to the Veterans Cemetery. I'm driving back and randomly decide to put down both windows. I look into the rear-view and there's a bee near the hatchback window. I'm not only terrified of bees, I'm allergic. But there was nowhere to pull over. It was a very thin, 2 lane backroad. So I kept watching it, adrenaline going OFF. Because what in the hell would happen if this bee flew into the front of the car or anywhere near me? A few agonizing minutes later, I finally pulled off the road into some brush, got out and opened the hatchback. I actually TOLD the bee, "Go on, now." and sure enough it just flew right out and away from me.

I was all about that bee story. That's ~nature saving my life. That's ~divine intervention.

Yesterday, my umpeenth hour of thinking, worrying, obsessing over this work/vacation thing... I'm driving home and a song comes on and I'm rocking out, not really paying attention because OMG PROBLEMS. I don't remember which one it was but a particular lyric struck me. It might've been about beauty around us or something. It caused me to look up and notice this stunning huge bright white bird flying overhead. And as I took that moment to appreciate it... it sprayed shit all over my car. I mean. It was like a sprinkler. So gross.

Now that's funny to me. Nature/The Way Things Are just do whatever the fuck it wants without my say-so. Shit's gonna happen anyway, so I might as well laugh it off and enjoy myself. If I take the bee situation as divine intervention, then perhaps this bird shitting on my car precisely when I feel inspired to appreciate it, is too.

That was the conclusion I reached at that point and it lasted for a few hours. And now I'm back to being miserable. And in its own fucked-up way, that's okay too. It is what it is.

Maybe life is just glimpses of awareness. But everything changes.

This too, shall pass.

Appreciate the shit.

That time I encountered a deer

Spotting deer in real life is a secretive endeavor. I'm pretty sure that for most people, it has a lot to do with Stand by Me  (if you don't know, may god have mercy on your soul you should find out). If one spots a deer, one doesn't speak of it. Like that club... with the... nevermind. We spent a good minute considering each other once it crossed and settled under a tree. I dared not approach it, but I didn't want to leave, either. So I just stood there. There are too many emotions to get into on a public blog thingie. I'll just say it was magical. And hope that's enough.

Here's some pics from my walkabout through Peña Adobe.

Unusually long arrow is funny to me.

 

 

 Aw shithell this is steep!

 

 

 Panoramic from the almost-top of the hill.

 Love me some Californian blue and gold.

 

 

 New shoes!

 

 

 cReeepy

 

 

 Artistic close-up of rotting wood picnic table.

 

 

 The Matrix is all around us.

 

 

 

My treasure is

 

 

 

 

 

Details in the fabric. One of my favorite things to partake in. Exquisite attention.

 

The factor most likely to drive us to addiction or illness is a lack of intimate contact with spirit. We all need a daily dose of vastness.

Paradoxically, many of us would also benefit from more microscopic vision. Because we're so deprived of divine connection, we're half-dreaming all the time; our unconscious pining for the eternal source distracts us from the vivid little glories that are splayed out around us. And so we miss the Divine Wow from both directions.

Try this: Prime your connection with spirit by focusing your attention on tones and shapes you usually miss: reflections in windows, the sky between the oak tree's branches, the shadows on the water, the two different emotions in a friend's eyes and mouth.
from freewillastrology.com

Blurb on Z

I knew the second I found out that they were making World War Z into a movie, I'd be seeing it. I apparently REALLY enjoyed it (as memory does not serve I loved it all that much) I gave it 5 stars on my Goodreads account. ha!

Then I found out Brad Pitt would be in it (more on him later, probably. I actually have no format for what I'm about to write.), and I knew it was more likely to be good than bad.

How I tend to recall books is not by specific details, but by general concepts, conclusions I came to, and emotions they invoked. I love quotes, which is why I write down the good ones and in my favorite book underline or highlight. Blasphemy, I know. Onward...

THE BOOK

Part of the reason the book is so good (and I heard it was recommended reading for high school seniors which was what piqued my interest enough to actually pick it up. A zombie book? For high schoolers? What the actual fuck, right? What kind of school endorses this? Bizarre at best, negligent at worst.) is because it deals with projections of what might actually happen when an apocalypse hits in terms of what would occur if we almost completely broke down on a global scale. We may have all visited government shut downs, rampant violence, etc in our minds, but what I remember about this book is that this delves into skills and services, the good side of human nature when confronted with complete chaos and disaster. How important is a business executive when there's clothing to be made? Food to be harvested? Ad designers vs waste water employers? Can you sew some blankets or train some horses to help you carry water? It brings us back to the beginning. Money is of no value. What do we have to offer just as talents and abilities? How do we rebuild and support each other? And it isn't just America, it's worldwide. We're forced into being equals for survival. We're forced to help each other and be of service or die. It's interesting to stretch our minds to a reset button of sorts.

THE MOVIE

I didn't find out it was rated PG-13 until just before I saw it. I was a teensy leery of the CGI during the previews. I really was hoping this wouldn't be another showcase of "yay graphics look what we can do!" I honestly went into it with an open mind though. I didn't revisit the book before going, and I'm glad for that. ("Comparison is the thief of joy.").

I think that the PG-13 rating served it incredibly well. And here's why: The story is what's important here, not gore, violence, or even cussing. It might've even been a scapegoat to stick to the storyline! It's not a horror movie, and I'm relieved they didn't try to make it into one. It's also, and this I didn't realize until afterwards, not a comedy. It takes itself seriously. Some serious movies don't, and it may or may not work for that particular movie ("it was surprisingly funny!"). This one doesn't fuck around. It definitely has tense moments and jump-scares, but on the whole, Walking Dead is 10 times gorier.

I can't get into all the geopolitical sides to it. Mostly because I'm not interested. I might just be reporting as a girl who read a book and saw a movie. I'm okay with that.

BRAD PITT

There was a time when a girl couldn't say "Brad Pitt is my favorite actor." without getting a side-eye. Oh. Of course. His "act." "ing." But hey, some talented people just happen to be painfully good-looking. They're still talented. There's a scene near the end that I won't give away where he's just walking. It occured to me that no other actor could've pulled off that scene.

IN CONCLUSION

YAY. Go see it.

Finding Others...

Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think Déjà vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…

― Timothy Leary

Not even make-believe

Not So Usual

This is the most unusual story, of the most unusual girl.
She's the paint in my picture, of a most unusual world.
She can crawl out of frame while she's hangin' on the wall.
And she's callin' my name. She's not so usual.

Oh no. She's not so usual. Oh no.

She's mostly a ghost (the way she watches over me).
She complains when I smoke but then would do the same to me.
She's controlling my brain activity, (knowing when I go to sleep).
She's gonna catch me when I'm fallin' hard. She's the most unusual.

I know. She's not so usual.
I know she's not so usual.
Oh no. She's not so usual.

She's not so hooked on the drugs like I thought that she was.
And never suckin' on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine.
And despite of her bipolar rollercoastering.
I think I can trust she'll keep me singing differently.
And it's fine cause she's with me now, most all of the time.
Trying to saving my life, thinking none of her own.
And always kissing me goodnight, when I just need to be alone.
She's so sweet. So discrete.
She's exactly what I need now not even make believe.

She's not so usual.
She's not so u.

I said she's not so, not so usual, u.
But she's not too practical neither babe.
I said she's not so, not so mystical.
Not too magical either cause she say so.
Not so out of control, and not so into the phone.

She's not so USUAL! She's a natural. She's not so usual.
Oh oh! Oh oh! All she wants to do is sold...

She's not so u.
She's not u.
Not so new!

Symptoms of Inner Peace

1. A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.
2. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
3. Loss of interest in judging other people.
4. Loss of interest in judging self.
5. Loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
6. Loss of interest in conflict.
7. Loss of ability to worry.
8. Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
9. Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
10. Frequent attacks of smiling.
11. An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than feeling the need to make them happen.
12. An increased susceptibility to love extended by others and the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

by Saskia Davis

source

Thug Kitchen

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE, THUG KITCHEN ?!

This shit is hilarious, yo.

I just made Roasted Chick Pea and Broccoli Burritos (note to self: make sure avocados are for reals and slash or salsa is happening). I used arugula instead of spinach, and made sorta... soft tacos with corn tortillas. WHO'S GONNA GIVE A FUCK, THE EATING-LIKE-YOU-GIVE-A-SHIT POLICE??!

This is the pic I took and cried over because I couldn't upload it in all its glory to Instagram. I weep. It is spectacular, no?

"Before I even put that shit in the oven."

 

I need to look at something beautiful.

I had to go to the beach. Because I had to. You understand.

^^^ I wrote this a few days ago, when I just felt like I needed to go. But now, with the anniversary of a dear friend's passing, and the recent passing of a teenhood icon... I'm having a hard time of it. I needed to put this together and put it out there. I had some trouble organizing it and getting it to show up initially. So this is sloppy. Whatever. I need to look at something beautiful.

Sensing a Great Disturbance in The Force

I'm sensing a great disturbance in the force. So,

To Whom It May Concern:

Be gentle with yourself. You're all you have. If you stumble, that's okay, I promise. Just get back up and keep trying.

You are not alone. Please remember that many, many, many awesome people have walked a similar path and would be honored to help you on yours.

Whenever you are open and willing to learn, your teacher/s will appear. Please reach out. And if you're afraid to, do it anyway. That's when it can be most beneficial. (I still struggle with this one, just so you know. :P)

Nothing worth doing is easy. It doesn't get easier, you just get stronger.

I have found that writing a gratitude list just before bed has been one of many things that helps me. I've found that instead of obsessing, reliving unsavory moments, worrying... I focus on what I've written and come up with more to add to it. Everything begets everything, and certainly gratitude begets gratitude.

I've come to believe that Gratitude at any moment can transform everything.

When I remember to start from where I am with what I have, things tend to fall into place.

It'll be okay. Never give up. I love you.

Jfo

What happens next?

 

 

 

 

I dreamed I was a telepathic teenage unicorn with five hearts, each of which contained a different mode of intelligence. One gave me the wisdom of a crow, another the consciousness of a human, and the others the smarts of a turtle, wolf, and dolphin. (My brain was the location of my unicorn thoughts.)

I found myself in the High Desert of Yellow Tulips, a place whose name didn't match its qualities. It was really like an ocean, since it was crammed with millions of unnaturally sturdy flowers whose waves and currents carried me along.

Two companions were with me—my lesbian twin, an untameable dreadlocked zebra named Flux Luster, and our best friend, Outrider, a petite crocodile doctor with the most elegant hands and arms in the Dreamtime.

As we rode along on the top of the tulip waves, we sang a song. The chorus was "We believe in nothing so we can accept everything."

Once we passed a buoy with a sign that said, "Beware of Insane Joke-Telling Kittens."

We weren't scared in the least, since we had packets of wizard pollen that we knew we could throw on the kittens and thereby make them sane.

Finally we came ashore on an island where a mad scientist in a purple frock coat and orange pants was gazing straight up as he clutched three test tubes full of bubbling green liquids. He was exasperated, and seemed to be arguing with an unseen presence above. The words he kept repeating sounded like, "You said the spray from the waterfall would be the last ingredient!"

Then a giant hand reached down from the sky. "That's God," said Flux Luster matter-of-factly, and I believed her. The fingernails on the divine hand were painted cherry red and there was a blue band-aid partially covering a booboo on her wrist. God was apparently delivering a gift. She set it down on the beach just a few feet away from us.

Was it for us or for the mad scientist? It was a miniature pink Ferris wheel with six yellow canaries riding in the cars.

To be continued ... by you. Keep dreaming the tale onward: What happens next?

{from Rob Brezsny}

How much do I love asking questions?

It seems to me that we generally underestimate questions. Many of us believe that for there to be a question, there must be an answer. I mean, that's how the equation goes, isn't it? But what if posing a question isn't about getting an answer? (Though that can be pretty satisfying.) How much mind-blowing can be induced when you do away with answers entirely and revel in the space that questions create?

Question rampages will soon be my specialty. They might be already.

My friend and one of my most favorite people ever, Jason, got me going on this during a bodywork session. Pose a question, consider options, allow whatever rises to rise, whether or not it's an answer. Live in the space. Let it hang. Breathe it in and swim in curiosity. Let a question lead to another. Let there be no "figuring it out" or "coming to a conclusion".

I find it's a very powerful exercise for me. It doesn't end when anything is answered. It "ends" when it feels like it's "ended". (by this I mean, usually when I do it, I'm writing. I have to physically stop at some point) It could be a particular word that has stopped me, or a turn of phrase. It could be a super-heavy realization I like to let linger, finish off my day with, or start my day with, or let the moment infinitize itself (I also like to invent words) with.

Recently, on Twitter:

• How different would life be if I constantly asked questions? How long could I keep that up? Wasn't it a game on "Whose Line Is It Anyway?"?
• Can there be satisfaction in not having an answer? Why do I require an answer? Why do I need to be satisfied?
• What's courage?
• How deep does it go? Which path do I take? Where will this take me? Have I arrived? Can I stop now?
• Are others curious about their own psyche? How do they go about exploring it? At what point do they stop & climb out? How fearless are they?
• What does fear have to do with it? When does it get good? Is there healing involved? What's the result? Where's the growth?
• What can patience teach me right now? What can I allow in?
• What can I let go?
• How important is order? How does it feel to be wrong? How does it feel to win? How important are feelings? How important is importance?

How important is importance?

I'm asking. You, maybe. How important is importance?

Will it hover? Will you paw for conclusions like many of us do? Will it open the door for other considerations and questions?

So maybe, hopefully, you like this question-asking business.

 

It's magical. It ~opens doors in the mind. It somehow gets you to some deeply spiritual place. It gets you in touch with the infinite, with source, with you. This might not be a fact.

SLOTH HEAVEN!

My icon needs to be a sloth, or a baby sloth, or many sloths, or many baby sloths.

First, googling "baby sloth"  is a huge mistake/bestthingever.

I mean... THERE'S A SLOTHVILLE??? Population, me please! herp derp.